My Verona
by HpVamp
Summary: We've all come to the conclusion that Tom Riddle's live was completely void of love. He couldn't love just anyone - she'd have to be special. And Verona is very special... PLEASE REVIEW! I wanna know what you think!
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 0_

_There she sat, studying her first year charms books, her large black wings spread out behind her, her blonde hair flying in the breeze. She was alone, like always – you'd have thought she'd have learned by now. She was such an easy target. Different, awkward, soft spoken, no urge to fight back or stand up for herself – everything a bully like Luscius Malfoy could pick at to make himself feel like a man. And this time…this time, he had something special planned. He watched her from behind the stone wall, smiling at himself and his hidden agenda, slowly drawing out the knife from beneath his robes._

_"Hello, Verona," he said, coming around the corner with his band of Slytherin cronies. She jumped a little, her wings fluttering. "What do you want?" She asked suspiciously._

_Luscius fingered the knife in his hand. "Nothing, really. Although…I was really hoping you could maybe show me something. You see, I've been wondering…do…do abominations like you cry?" He unsheathed the knife and held the blade with his other hand. Verona's eyes widened. She knew exactly what he was doing. "Please, Luscius…this isn't fair…" He laughed, and with a swipe, slid the blade through his palm. He opened it, witnessed the line of blood that divided his hand. He'd never done this before, but had seen the 5__th__ and 6__th__ years do it to Verona all the time. The hilarity that ensued at her expense was well worth the pain of a mutilated hand_

_Luscius stretched his hand Verona's way, his friends laughing expectantly. Her eyes followed the blood that trickled down his arm and onto the damp ground, eyes that turned a pale yellow and widened even more with hunger. "Stop," she whispered, her body frantically trying to move her, but unable to. She knew she couldn't indulge in this treat that was being so freely offered, it was strictly forbidden. But she hadn't tasted human blood in so long…_

"_Come on, Verona. You know you want to have a little taste," Luscius mocked. He was so confident she wouldn't take him up on the offer, so sure of her upstanding loyalty to Dumbledore and the other professors. Besides, other students had done it, and she had never retaliated. There was no way this plan could fail. In his arrogance, Luscius moved closer, close enough for Verona to touch._

_His friends shifted nervously. Verona's breathing had gotten quicker. She resembled more of a carnal beast than a human being._

_A wiry – looking girl, Bellatrix, interjected. "Luscius, maybe you should…" "Shut up!" Luscius shouted, annoyed at their lost faith. He turned to address them, angry. "Perhaps you shouldn't have come if you…" But the words following failed to fall from his lips. Verona had tackled Luscius with such a force it had knocked him to the ground and rendered him unconscious. She grabbed his palm and held it to her mouth, suckling his precious fluids. _

_Luscius's friends stood rooted to their spots, unable to move, unable to breathe. As the incapacitated boy began turning pale, it became clear that Verona wouldn't stop until she had drained him of everything. _

_She lowered her head slowly towards his neck, but was struck by a small rock thrown by one of Luscius's companions. She jerked up, her mouth dripping with blood, and uttered a truly inhuman cry of war, her pointed teeth bared. She leapt at Bellatrix, gripping her neck and lifting her with one hand in a feat of incredible strength. _

_Just as the lights were growing dark for Bella, Verona's grip loosened, then fell to her side. Coming towards them over the Hogwarts grounds was Albus Dumbledore, his wand raised, incapacitating Verona. She hung a few inches above the ground, her eyes open in a blank stare, her jaw lax. _

"_All of you, back to the castle!" Yelled Dumbledore, his cheeks flushed with anger. Not one student disobeyed, all of them scrambling to get there first. _

_Dumbledore sighed, stroking Verona's cheek, and shedding a single tear. "Oh, my dear. I do believe I have failed you."_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

_(Four years after Verona's incident with Luscius Malfoy)_

Verona Doringen stood on Platform 9 ¾ for the first time since she had started school as a first year. She smiled to herself. Hogwarts was exactly how she had left it four years ago. She was a completely different vampire than before: she was confident, she could control her anger and her abilities, and, most of all, she was the most intimidating student Hogwarts had ever seen.

She stood with her cart and watched wistfully as the other students kissed their parents goodbye, giddy about what awaited them. She had never had the luxury of someone loving her, as her parents had been killed by extremists shortly after she was born. In some small way, she resented them all, everyone who had ever been loved, everyone who agreed that the immortal weren't capable of emotion. Everyone who sent her to be beaten down in her own special Hell for the past four years.

She waited for the other students to board first, just as she had been taught. _If you push in front of others,_ she remembered from her lessons,_ it seems hostile and intimidating. Always remember to keep a healthy distance from the living._ The living. As if she were some sort of monster that was already dead. Finally, with the platform mostly empty, she took a deep breath and boarded the train to the only home she ever knew.

Once on the train, it was quite a challenge to find a compartment. The first compartment was full of first years, who looked at her warily, then quickly shut their door. It appeared that everyone had heard the rumor that the beast was coming back to Hogwarts.

The second compartment housed Luscius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and several others from that fateful day. When Verona poked her head in, the group quickly fell silent. After what seemed like ages, Luscius said carefully, "You know you're not welcome here." Verona shrugged. "You know that if I really wanted to sit here, I'd force my way in." She slammed the door shut and moved on.

Verona searched the train high and low, looking for a friendly face, or at least somewhere she could be left in peace. She found it in a shabby-looking compartment in the very back, one which probably hadn't been used in decades. A group of giggly girls pushed past her, staring and pointing. _Laugh it up, girls,_ she thought to herself. _I'm past the point of caring about what other people think of me._ She slung her bag into the overhead bin and shut the door, then opened her book, content to be left to read.

Verona realized that even the candy cart lady hadn't come by to ask her if she wanted anything. She had run everyone off, just by being herself. _They never have the blood-flavored lollipops anyway, _she thought.

After about 20 minutes, a long slender silhouette appeared on the shade. There was a knock, then a boy of about 15 opened the door.

He was very handsome, with a kind of mystery about him. His black hair hung just above his piercing green eyes, and his high cheek bones were curved into a closed-lip smile.

"Do you mind if I join you?" He asked. "You see, all the other compartments are full of people, and I would much rather be somewhere quiet."

Verona observed him tentatively. This was suspicious behavior, behavior she had learned to be wary of long ago.

"Malfoy didn't send you, did he?" She asked.

He laughed half-heartedly. "No."

"You're not going to do anything stupid are you?"

Another laugh.

"Don't laugh! If you came back here by yourself you must be either very ignorant of who I am or very stupid, so it's only rational of me to ask that question!"

There was a very tense pause.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Verona," he said coolly. Whether it was the air in the train or his words that sent a chill up her spine, she did not know, but she couldn't remember the last time she was ever cold.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, retreating back to her book. For the first time in a long time, she was unnerved. She found it hard to look him in the eye. There was something about him that just put her on edge.

"You really can't go anywhere on this train without hearing the name Verona Doringen," he said, sitting down across from her. "I've heard plenty about you."

Verona scoffed. "All good things, I'm sure."

He shook his head. "To an untrained ear, they may seem unflattering, but to me…" he trailed off, his gaze taking in every inch of her body.

She felt exposed under his eyes, and she folded in, her wings forming a half-cocoon around her. Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly have you heard?"

He straightened, realizing his intrusion. "Well, the usual of course. You're a vampire. You live on human blood. You attacked Luscius Malfoy four years ago, which lead to your export to…"

"Durmstrang," she finished for him.

"Durmstrang?" He asked, confused. "I thought Durmstrang was only for boys…?"

"It is. The Ministry of Magic felt that it was the only place that was capable of handling me. And of course, they were probably right," she said, her back becoming rigid. "They run their school in such a militaristic fashion. You see, they have a special program for troubled students that have been deemed 'out of control.' In my three years at Durmstrang, I was stunned, cursed, and beaten within an inch of my life, all to learn to control that which, up until that point, had controlled me: hunger." She laughed. "All of that because of a little incident that that little bastard brought on himself."

The boy did not laugh, although he looked interested, and in his own way, sad. "I also heard that you're an orphan?"

She looked at him hard. "Look, if all you're going to do is ask me questions you don't have any business knowing the answer to, then…"

"No, no, please, forgive my intrusion." Another pause.

Verona sighed. "It's true. My parents were killed by extremists who believe vampires shouldn't be allowed to exist." There was something about this boy that made her want to answer his silly questions.

"Why can you walk around in the sunlight?"

"There's a charm that allows me to. I still have to wear this," she gestured to her turtleneck and long pants, which were strange in heat like this, "and carry an umbrella. But it's better than being a hermit, I suppose."

He nodded in agreement. There was another tense pause. She looked down at her book again.

"I also heard that you're immortal."

She sighed. "You heard correctly."

Emotions that previously had been hidden from the boy's face suddenly graced it. He looked excited, giddy almost. "It must really be something to know you'll never get old, never die."

She shrugged. "I suppose."

He looked shocked. "You don't think so? Think of everything you could accomplish! Especially someone like you! You really don't know all the power you possess…it's incredible. Today I heard the word 'Verona' more times than I could count and…you're just so beautiful in your own right…"

Verona's attention was ripped away from her book. She had never gotten a compliment from anyone but Albus Dumbledore, and this far outweighed it. She glowed, blushed, and looked away from him.

"Thank you," she said sheepishly.

"You're welcome," he said. Another pause.

"I hope you don't find me intrusive or odd in any way," he said, "but I've noticed you for quite a while."

Verona was anything but perturbed – she was completely enamored. "You have?" She asked.

"Yes. It's a strange feeling, one I've not really been exposed to, but in some small way, I'm fascinated by you." He reached into his robes and pulled out an object.

In his hand was a blood-flavored lollipop.

She smiled a toothy grin, which was returned in an almost reluctant manner. Another pause.

Finally, he spoke.

"People fear what they don't understand, Verona." He looked her directly in the eye, leaning forward. "They don't understand you, so they fear you, and rightfully so. The power you possess is extraordinary. You are different. So am I."

Verona stared into his eyes, feeling dizzy. "What did you say your name was?" She asked.

He extended his hand to shake hers. "Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Verona was having a fantastic time in her fifth year at Hogwarts. She was impressing her professors with her academic talent, as well as dazzling the other students that had once feared her with her newly acquired social skills – none of them were even unnerved by the pig's blood she drank at meals. The best of all of these things was that she had a new best friend and confidante, someone equally as intelligent, talented, driven and charming as she was.

Yes, it seemed that everything she had learned in the past few months she had learned from Tom Riddle. He had taught her how to better handle a wand during a spell. He had taught her how to charm her fellow students and professors into getting what she wanted. He had even taught her how to converse with members of every Hogwarts house without offending them: "A Slytherin believes in strength and power. A Gryffindor believes in dignity and bravery. A Ravenclaw believes in intelligence and talent, and a Hufflepuff believes in nothing. Adjust accordingly."

Tom had also taught her another valuable and heartbreaking lesson – that of teenage love and angst. When she looked at him, she felt weak and lost. She immediately became distracted every time he walked into a room, her eyes softening into a far-away, dreamy stare. She would have done anything for him, and yet he never seemed to catch on. His manner towards Verona was more like that of a mentor – he was aloof, he spoke only when he needed to, he seemed only to criticize her, and his eyes lacked the burning passion she so yearned for when he gazed at her. What she had mistaken for adoration and love on their first encounter on the Hogwarts Express was a fleeting infatuation that seemed to turn to annoyance.

He didn't love her at all.

*****

After the Christmas holiday, a horrible incident shattered Verona's new found identity as a popular student.

It was late one evening, and she was making her way to the Gryffindor common room for curfew. As she turned the corner, she saw Tom patrolling the corridor, fulfilling his duties as a Slytherin Prefect. She smiled, her tired eyes softening.

"I thought students weren't supposed to be out of bed at this hour," she said playfully.

Tom jumped. He looked nervous, as if he had lost something very important. "Verona!" He looked relieved to see her face, but his glance hardened. "You AREN'T supposed to be out of bed. Get to your common room quickly!" He turned away and continued down the corridor.

Verona was hurt. This was incredibly cold, even for Tom. They were, after all, supposed to be best friends.

"Tom…come on. You know you don't have to…"

"I am the superior student and Prefect, and I have just given you and order. Do NOT disobey me." He turned away again.

Verona's eyes welled with tears for the first time in her life. She hated the way they stung, the way she didn't know how to stop them, but mostly, she hated that she allowed Tom to do this to her.

"Tom, stop! Do you have any idea what you do to me?! Every time you turn away from me, every time you…"

"Verona, shut up." He said his words coolly, but they burned her ears all the same. A single tear slid down Verona's cheek. Tom's eyes followed it as it splashed on the cold floor. He looked sympathetic, sad even.

"Verona, please. Go to bed. I'm doing this for your own protection." He turned for the last time, and ran away.

His last words echoed in her ears. _How dare he?!_ She thought. _What is he even talking about?_ Slowly, she kept on her way to the common room.

After a roughly five minute walk, she heard it. Something moving. _Slithering_ even. It sounded like a freight train without a whistle, and couldn't have been much smaller. She spun around in all directions. Where was it coming from? The corridor to her left…no, to her right…no, it couldn't be…there's no way it could possibly be…coming from the wall? She leaned her ear towards the stone wall. Something was making its way through the wall somehow, and quickly. She followed the wall, hand over hand, trying to find the monster that maneuvered through impossible crevices.

The farther along the wall she moved, the darker the corridor seemed to get. Soon the hall was shrouded in darkness, stifling and unnerving. To keep her balance, she kept her hands sliding down the wall, feeling the cool stone beneath her fingertips. She was getting closer now, could hear the beast breathing. She was sure she was close enough to touch it when her fingers felt something other than the cold stone. It was a warm liquid, and it smelled of death. She touched a finger to her tongue. Human blood.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but want more. There wasn't anyone around, and it was dark. Who would know she indulged in a little treat? She slowly craned her neck toward the wall and began lapping up the liquid. It had never tasted so good, and she hadn't felt so alive since that day on the grounds four years ago…

No. She ripped herself away from the wall. She wouldn't let the hunger control her. Not anymore.

About the same time Verona was finding new resolve, a piercing scream shattered the air. Instinctively, she ran towards the sound and out of the darkness. When she turned the corner into the lit corridor, she saw a crinkled mass lying on the floor, unmoving. Fearing the worst, she ran towards the heap, which now appeared to be a Hufflepuff girl she had conversed with several times, and who was now completely stiff from head to toe, and stared at Verona with unblinking, glassy eyes.

Verona scooped her up in her arms easily, holding her in a cradle position. "Somebody help me!" She screamed at an ear-shattering decibel. When no one came to her aid, she began running down the corridor with the girl in her arms, desperate for anyone, Tom, Dumbledore, Malfoy…anyone who could come and save her. She found herself in the darkness again, and was forced to slow down so as not to drop the girl. She panted and turned in all directions, jerking her neck around at unsightly angles.

After a long time, a light cut through the darkness. Her voice tired from screaming, Verona croaked out a pathetic "Over here." The light moved closer and closer, and Tom, leading several frightened looking students, one of them Malfoy, another prefect, stepped out of the darkness. The corridor was completely lit now, and she was totally exposed. It was only after one of the students let out a scream that she realized her appearance: She was carrying what appeared to be a dead girl, and she was covered in blood.

Verona panicked. "No, you don't understand! I found her…it's not what it seems…" she stammered, stumbling backwards with the girl still in her arms.

Malfoy just couldn't resist the chance to open his mouth. "I knew this would happen, you filthy cannibal!" He shouted scornfully. "You should be put to death, you disgusting waste of flesh!"

Tom rounded on him, furious. "You don't have any idea what happened Luscius! Keep your nose out of other people's affairs!"

Luscius backed away, but kept at his insults. "She isn't a damn person! She's a heathen, and she never should have come back here! If my father hears about…"

"Your father may have enough money to buy you that Prefect badge, but he's still an ingrate, and so are you. If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut before it got you into trouble…" Tom trailed off, his eyes barreling into Malfoy's soul.

Instantly, Malfoy's eyes became as glassy as the girl's in Verona's arms. "You're right Tom. I shouldn't have interfered," he said slowly and without emotion. "I'll make sure the rest of the students get to bed." He turned on his heels and continued down the corridor as if he slept, the wide-eyed students behind him.

Tom turned back to Verona, who was going into a kind of shock. "What did you do to him just now?" She asked.

"It doesn't matter," he answered, moving towards her stiffly. "I told you to get to bed."

"I'm sorry, I was getting there, but I…" Verona twitched, a realization donning on her. "Do you know something about this?"

Tom took the girl from her arms as if he hadn't heard her question at all. "You really have to learn to listen to me when I tell you something. I wouldn't have warned you if I didn't think it was important." He started to walk away, inevitably towards the Headmaster's office.

"Tom, wait," Verona called after him. "Swear to me that you didn't know anything about this. You just had a feeling…right?" She asked hopefully, naively, wanting to hear her worst fears denied from the man that she so adored.

He stopped, didn't turn around, didn't look her in the eye, said, "I didn't know anything, Verona. Now please, go to bed."

She sighed. She wanted to believe him with all of her being, but couldn't. Despite herself, she said nothing of this. Instead, she asked, "Shouldn't I go with you?"

Tom shook his head. "No, Verona, you'll only make things worse for yourself." Again, with so few words, he had cut her so deeply.

She stood there for a long time, watching him walk away. Finally, she turned to face the wall where she had found the trail of blood, realizing now that it wasn't just a trail, but a message.

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened; enemies of the Heir, be warned._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Alter-Ego

"I love you, Verona."

"I love you too, Tom."

It seemed since they had uttered those beautiful words, the world seemed a little brighter, a bit more whole. Verona no longer cared what anyone thought of her; she had Tom, and that was all that mattered. She walked with a bounce in her step, knowing that someone finally cared about her. Someone finally loved her.

…And then she remembered what he had done.

It weighed heavily on her, but she tried to convince herself that what he said was true: "Verona, I know there is something dwelling in the castle, something unnatural, and it's terrorizing the student body. But I can assure you, I never called it on Myrtle. I never called it at all. Someone else is controlling it somehow, telling it what to do. Sure, I did what I did to help you, but I didn't kill her. I found her that way, and I should have told the faculty, but I can't go back now."

It was hard to convince herself, yes, but it was even harder to convince herself that the only person she had ever loved and been loved by in return could lie to her. The dilemma kept her up at night, but she didn't dare say anything to Tom. She didn't want to worry him.

One night, hours past curfew, Verona was tossing and turning once again. Careful not to wake her roommates, she slipped out of bed, tiptoed down the stairs, slunk through the common room, and stepped through the portrait hole in the wall. The Fat Lady was fast asleep; there was really no one to bother her. She continued through the halls, not knowing exactly where she was going, but going nonetheless.

She turned a corner not long before she had started her walk, and suddenly realized why she had gotten out of bed: Tom was there, sitting in a window pane, staring thoughtfully out onto the moon drenched grounds. He was clutching a leather diary, and he had heard her soft footsteps on the cold stone floor. When he turned and saw her, he smiled warmly, as if he had been expecting her.

"I had a feeling I'd see you here," he said, making a place for her on the sill.

She smiled back. "Did you? Well I can assure you that I don't usually wander around in my pajamas after hours."

She sat down, leaned into him. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, then said, "No, I didn't think so. But I'm glad you came. I needed some company. It's been quite an exhausting few days."

Verona gazed at him, puzzled. "Oh, really? Do tell."

He sighed heavily, and for the first time, she realized how worn down he looked. "I don't know. School. People expect things of me that I feel I can't achieve. Sometimes it's like I'm leading a double life."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked.

He shook his head. "It's nothing, really. Just talk. I'm just glad I have someone to listen." He pulled her in tighter, and as he adjusted, he dropped his diary on the floor. It fell open to the first page, and on the inside of the front cover, a message was scrawled in black ink. Verona bent over to pick it up out of curiosity. She pulled it closer to her face, reading the message out loud.

"_I am Lord Voldemort._" She chuckled a little, looked back at Tom. "Who's Lord Voldemort? Is it someone I know?" She elbowed him playfully, but he looked distraught.

"It's nothing, really," he took the diary out of her hands hurriedly. "It's more like a…a joke, I suppose. Or a character in a story." He flipped through the pages, closing himself off from her.

She laid a hand on his arm. "I'd like to hear about it, if that's alright." She smiled encouragingly.

There was a pause. He sighed. "Alright, but I'm still working on it. So don't make judgments quite yet."

She nodded, then turned her body to face him.

He took a deep breath. "Alright. To some, Lord Voldemort is a legend, an immortal wizard with unlimited power and no weaknesses. He fights for the righteous of the wizarding world, allowing only the brave, courageous, talented children study the noble art of magic, and casting the rest out, and for the equality of other magical races. He is a man not to be trifled with, and his enemies know this – they dare not speak his name aloud, for fear of what bad luck it might bring. In short, he is the most powerful wizard ever to have lived - feared, loved, and honored."

His words hung in the air of the corridor, echoing. She smiled broadly. "This Voldemort chap doesn't sound half bad. I like him very much. He would make a wonderful character in a wonderful story."

She leaned back into him, and he draped his arm around her once again, chuckling. "I think you're right, Verona. He's quite the man."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Proof

Tom and Verona rarely fought, but when they did, it was a cataclysmic event.

"Why can't you just try and see my point of view, Tom?! I was sick, I needed human blood – besides the nurse, you were the only one that knew this. You mysteriously end up with Myrtle's blood, feed it to me and I'm suddenly better…don't you see how suspicious that looks to me?! How suspicious it makes ME look?!"

This was one of those cataclysmic times.

"Verona, what do you want me to do? What would you like for me to say? I love you, doesn't that count for anything? Doesn't that make my word-"

"Oh God, Tom, are you going to hold that over my head every time I want an answer from you? I love you, don't ever question me?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

Tom paused. He was beginning to lose his temper with her, and that was odd. He'd never lost his temper with her before. With others, sure, but never with Verona. It was a new feeling, this rage creeping up inside of him. More and more, he felt the fire burning in his belly, somehow making him less human. In fact, it seemed that the only thing keeping him connected to his humanity was Verona. Otherwise, the only emotions he felt were of power lust, greed, and disgust. He took a calming breath, then continued.

"Do you want proof from me? Someone to lay the blame on?"

She said nothing. She swallowed, looked away from him.

"Fine then," he turned away, exasperated. "You'll see. Everyone will see."

***

"Verona, wake up! Come on, then!"

Verona groaned, stared groggily up at her fellow Gryffindor student rousing her to an early start.

"What do you want, Xandra?" She asked, rolling over on her side.

"They've cleared your name! The student body knows it's not you!"

Verona opened her eyes, but didn't roll over. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Xandra hit her arm with an exasperated sigh. "The Chamber of Secrets, you fool! They caught the student responsible!"

Verona sat up with a start. "You must be joking!"

Xandra shook her head excitedly. "No! Tom Riddle caught him early this morning! They're announcing it in the Great Hall right now!"

Verona leapt out of bed and got dressed quickly. She looked herself over in the mirror, making sure she was presentable for Tom. She quite literally flew down the stairs, jumping through the portrait hole, startling the Fat Lady. She couldn't hide her smile as she raced down the corridors to the Great Hall, flinging the doors open and sliding into the very end seat at the Gryffindor table. Tom was standing in front of the faculty table, beaming as the Headmaster placed a medal around his neck and handed him a shiny trophy.

"For special services to the school, I award you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, this trophy and medal, and a special place in the halls of Hogwarts. You have saved countless lives, and we are forever in your debt."

A chorus of applause rang out, Verona including herself in the cheers. There were no words to describe the relief she felt – relief that Tom hadn't killed Myrtle, or opened the Chamber of Secrets, or, most importantly, lied to her.

When the ceremony was over, she rushed over to Tom, throwing her arms around him and planting a very movie star-esque kiss on his lips. He pulled her in tightly, and in a response to her Hollywood moment, dipped her down as they shared the moment. A few students whistled, egging them on, equally as happy that the terror was over, that Tom Riddle was their savior, and that Verona Doringen was his lady love.

When they finally pulled away from each other, she was eager to ask him all about his detective work.

"So, who and what was responsible?"

His face became a bit more somber. "Rubeus Hagrid was keeping a pet spider. A very large pet spider, apparently one that had the power to kill those who looked it in the eye, and petrify those who saw it indirectly, say, in a mirror or something, which is what happened to-"

"Wait a minute," she stopped him cold, "Rubeus Hagrid? That Giant kid from Gryffindor?"

Tom nodded. "He's got a bit of a thing for the animals, no matter how disconcerting they might be."

She looked down at the ground, searching for an answer. "That's strange…he didn't seem like the type at all…" she trailed off, looking deep into his eyes. "Are you positively sure it was him?"

He looked frustrated again. "Verona, what more do you want me to do? I went looking for him in the middle of the night, cornered him, and out ran the spider. He confessed to it! He said that HE didn't even know what Aragog was capable of!"

She looked at him, puzzled. "Aragog?"

He chuckled a bit. "Yes, he named it. Seems a bit ridiculous for a man eating beast. Anyway, he's been expelled and carted off for mental stability screenings."

She sighed. "Poor old chap. He probably didn't even know what he was doing."

Tom scoffed. "Probably not, the fool. I just hope they never cart him back in here, lest he take something else in and kill someone else. This institution needs to re-evaluate its stance on second chances."

He sneered at nothing, then looked back at Verona, who was staring blankly.

"Perhaps. But don't forget, I was one of those second chances."

He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. He gently took her hand, and they continued on their way.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The Best Laid Plans of Immortality

The rest of the term came and went quickly, and was rather uneventful. When the last student had left the Hogwarts Express to go home, Tom and Verona stood together, kissed and said their goodbyes, promising they would write to each other.

The promises they made were not empty. Verona sent owls to Tom's muggle orphanage; Tom sent snail mail to Verona's wizarding orphanage. In the letters, Tom spoke of his unwillingness to consort with the muggle children, and his ultimate resentment towards them. Verona reassured him that soon, he wouldn't have to endure them, and perhaps someday, they could live out their days together. This prompted a long debate over the prospect of Tom becoming a vampire in order to live with her forever: Verona swore she would die before subjecting him to that kind of burden, Tom swore he would sooner drown their first born child before he left the two of them live alone without him. Verona sent him a picture of herself sitting in a window pane, smiling at the world behind that pane, her wings a flutter, then looking back at the camera and beaming at an imaginary Tom. In response, he sent her dried roses attached to the parchment, her favorite. In both letters, they swore their undying love for each other, love that would last forever.

When the long summer was finally over, they met at the train station, ecstatic to see one another, and grateful that they had kept in touch. Tom presented her with a dozen red roses, ones that were bewitched to last the length of their lives together. She accepted them energetically, but said over and over, "Really, Tom, you didn't have to! These must have cost a fortune!" and every time, he said, "I wanted to. You are more than worth the money."

***

The first term of their sixth year was again, uneventful. It seemed everyone had forgotten about the Chamber of Secrets, and were eager to accept Verona back into their circles. This was cemented by an invitation to an illustrious Christmas party and dinner hosted by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Horace Slughorn. It was an honor to be invited to these parties – only the older, talented students were invited, the ones Slughorn favored. Tom was invited as well, so finding a date wouldn't be hard for either of them.

On the night of the soiree, Tom waited outside the Gryffindor common room for Verona. When she finally came through the hole in the wall, he had to catch his breath – he blonde locks were curled and feathered around her face, opening up her features to the world, which she rarely did. She was sporting a silky red gown with white beaded detail around the bust and elbow length silky gloves. But the most amazing thing about her was her wings: they weren't the usual sooty black, but a brilliant bright white. She looked like an angel.

She blushed a little at his open mouthed gape, and said, "Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

He smiled warmly. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss for words." He extended his hand to help her from the portrait hole in a gentlemanly fashion, then hooked her arm with his.

***

The dinner party was rather boring. Slughorn rattled on about the students he had taught and what they went on to accomplish, and how he would someday tell another group of talented youngsters about the things THEY would someday accomplish.

The only one who seemed interested in any of this was Tom. He looked Slughorn in the eye coolly, nodding in agreement at everything he said. Verona began to nod off, and Tom squeezed her hand firmly under the table, shaking his head at her. She rolled her eyes, patting herself lightly on the cheeks to wake herself up. By the by, she couldn't help but notice how Tom pushed the wine on Slughorn. Without asking, he would take the professor's glass, fill it to the brim, and hand it to him in an accommodating manner. By the time dinner was over, Slughorn was completely drunk.

The students couldn't wait to file out of the office, Verona included. As she was leaving, Tom caught her by the hand.

"I have to ask Professor Slughorn a question, do you mind waiting for me outside?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Not at all. May I ask how long you'll be?"

He filled two more glasses of wine to the brim. "I shouldn't think I'll be too long." He kissed her forehead, and she left.

***

An hour later, Verona was still waiting in the corridor. She had fallen asleep only minutes before she was gently awoken by Tom.

"What took so long?" She asked, taking his arm again.

He took a moment to answer. "Do you remember that story I was writing? The one about the Lord Voldemort character?"

She nodded sleepily.

"I was doing a bit of research for the sake of it. You see, it seems I've found a way I…he, rather, could possibly live forever. In the story I mean."

"Is that so? Perhaps you should ask him his secret." She looked up at him and smiled lovingly.

He smiled back. "I'm not sure. The methods by which this immortality is attained with is…well, it's something he'd be willing to do, but he's not really sure how to go about it."

"Oh really?" She pried. "What's this bit of magic called?"

He cleared his throat, and looked turned his head to see if anyone else was around. All clear.

"Horcruxes. They're called horcruxes. They're created by ripping one's soul apart and placing it in an object, so that the individual couldn't be destroyed without first destroying the object that contained the individual's soul."

Verona straightened up a bit. "That doesn't sound pleasant at all. How is…ripping one's soul apart achieved?"

Tom didn't miss a beat. "By killing another human being."

She stopped. "And your righteous Lord Voldemort is willing to do this?" She asked. "YOU'RE willing to do this?"

He shrugged. "If that's what it takes to live forever, perhaps."

She yanked her arm out of his, and hurried off.

"Verona, wait. Please don't do this right now."

She didn't turn around. "Don't talk to me for a while. Not until Lord Voldemort is gone, anyway."

Tom felt the rage bubble up inside of him again. "Don't turn your back on me Verona. Voldemort is here to stay."

She scoffed, still turned away from him. "Don't think you can tell me what I can and can't do. You can tell that to Voldemort too. Add in that I told him to piss off."

White hot anger flashed before Tom's eyes. Before he could stop himself, he ran after Verona, and grabbed her arm with more force than either thought he possessed. So much force, in fact, that she couldn't squirm away from him, despite her inhuman strength.

She was incredibly surprised. She couldn't even loosen his grasp with her other arm. Her limb shook under the pressure of his grip. "Tom, you're hurting me," she said as calmly as she could muster. His grip didn't loosen, and his eyes seemed to turn an eerie deep red. His grip began to burn her skin the way sunlight did when she was unprotected by her charm. "Tom, please, let go." She began to sink to her knees, unable to endure the pain. Still, his grasp did not loosen, and her skin did not stop burning.

She began to feel light headed. She knew he wasn't going to let go, and when she finally fainted, who knew what he might do? In an act of desperation, she chomped down on his arm as hard as she could. He cried out, stumbling backwards and clutching his bleeding arm. His red eyes turned back to green, and the rage he had felt turned into deep shame. He gazed at Verona, who was panting on the floor, the skin of her arm red and raw.

He inched towards her, his hand outstretched. "Verona, I didn't mean-"

"Do. Not. Touch. Me."

"But I just-"

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" Verona had unleashed a rage of her own, her eyes a pale yellow, her teeth bared, a new found strength boiling in her veins. She panted for a silent moment, then said, "You've angered me Tom. Now, all that's left is a taste for blood. Your blood. You would do well to leave."

He backed away. "Please Verona, I just-"

"ARE YOU REALLY THAT STUPID?! GET OUT OF HERE!"

Without another word, he turned and ran, while Verona recovered from her hunger and the loss of her love on the cold, hard floor.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I Die Without You

Since they had met, Verona and Tom hadn't gone more than three days without talking to each other. This time, they'd gone more than three months.

In the time since the episode after Slughorn's Christmas party, Tom had been having a fling with Bellatrix Lestrange. She was fiery, had little regard for the feelings of others, and she absolutely adored him. Despite her desperate attempts to become closer to him, he remained indifferent towards her, as he really only had eyes for Verona. Bellatrix knew this, and it angered her beyond all possible belief. When she saw him staring at her from across the Great Hall, she wanted nothing more than to rid the world of the sultry Verona, but she didn't dare divulge this information to Tom for fear of him leaving her.

When he wasn't pining for Verona, Tom was furthering his knowledge of the Dark Arts. With her out of his life, he was able to focus more on what he wanted out of life – he was, after all, the Lord Voldemort of his stories, and like Voldemort, he wanted absolute power over the wizarding world, and to purge it of the filth that deemed themselves worthy to study magic; those disgusting muggle-borns. Without Verona, he felt lethal, detached from his humanity, the textbook definition of a sociopath. It wasn't long before he'd decided that he was willing to kill in order to achieve immortality – there were plenty of people who deserved to die around here; muggle-borns, sniveling pompous rich kids like Luscius, the incompetent fools who had the nerve to call themselves professors. He was changing, becoming a shell of his former self, and just when he thought his emotions could no longer hamper him, he saw her…

What was the use? No matter how dangerous he became, she would always be his one weakness. It was hard not to reach out to her – since the episode three months ago, she'd gotten much thinner and paler, with dark circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep. He'd watch her pick at her food and nod off in class, and even though she was sick and weak looking, she was beautiful.

Once, she had walked by his chair in potions class – it was the closest he'd been to her in months – and he could smell her perfume, could feel her body in his arms. Bellatrix, who was sitting next to him, snuggled in close to him and grabbed his hand. When Verona passed by again, she just couldn't relinquish the opportunity to rub in the fact that she and Tom were together.

"Oh Verona," she said with a smirk, "you're looking quite gaunt today. Why is that?"

Verona looked at her apathetically. "Just lost my appetite recently I suppose."

Bellatrix was thrown off by her indifferent response, but she refused to let her alone without a fight.

"Really? Do tell. Is it because there aren't any more students around here for you to munch on after they've been left for dead?"

Verona stared at Tom, who looked her sadly in the eyes. He had told them everything about Myrtle. Perturbed by this, but unwilling to show that to her ex-lover and arch enemy, she stayed calm and collected.

"Alright, Bella. We all know you two are snogging. Congratulations, you've won. Personally, I think perhaps Tom should re-evaluate his standards, since you are such an ugly, intolerable git, but if you make him happy in the bedroom, who am I to disagree with him?" Bellatrix's smile faded.

Verona turned to leave, then turned back as if she remember something. "Can I ask you a question? Just between us girls. What bothers you more? That I am gaunt because I haven't been eating, or that I am competition for a man you will never have?"

There was no answer.

Verona shrugged. "I figured you wouldn't be able to answer. Have fun with your meat sack, Tom."

At that, Bellatrix lost her cool. "_Expelliarmus!" _She exclaimed, pointing her wand at her verbal assailant. Verona, however, had seen this coming. She quickly rolled out of the way, and the curse hit the potions master instead, knocking him flat. When he stood up, he was raving mad, cursing at Bellatrix and subtracting points from Slytherin. She eventually ended up with an innumerable amount of detentions, which made the rest of the class snicker - everyone except for Tom and Verona, who stared longingly at each other.

***

It was May when Tom decided he couldn't take it anymore. He had missed her more than he had ever missed anything, and he could no longer bury himself in his studies of dark magic. He had told Bellatrix, much to her dismay, that he couldn't hide himself from his emotions any longer, and that he couldn't see her anymore. Her tears meant nothing to him, and he did nothing to console her. Now, his only concern was persuading Verona to come back to him.

When he finally got the courage to speak to her, it was in a candy shop in Hogsmeade. She was at the back of the store, no doubt searching for her blood-flavored candies. He smiled at that. He was glad she was doing something along the lines of nutrition. He entered the shop, which was empty except for her and the shop keeper. After a deep breath, he slowly made his way to the back of the store.

He stopped directly behind her, not knowing what to say. After a few seconds, she said, "What do you want, Tom?"

He said nothing. He wasn't sure how she knew it was him, he could have sworn she hadn't seen him. "Well, Verona…I've…well, you know how prideful I am, and-"

She whirled around. "Spit it out Tom, I haven't got all day." She made her way up to the counter with her candy. She placed her money between her and the shop keeper, to which Tom said, "It's alright, I've got it," and placed his own cash on the counter. "Thanks," she said to him, and hurried out of the store.

He went after her. "Wait, Verona! I just want to talk to you!"

"What the hell about?" She asked without stopping. He had caught up to her by then, jogging to keep up with her.

"Please, Verona. You know what." He took her hand in his very gently, as if to balance the last time he had grabbed it. She had stopped, and he squared his body off to face her.

She didn't let go of his hand, but turned away from him slightly. She was starting to cry. "You have made my life so hard. I thought it would be easy, having someone to love. But it isn't."

Her reaction killed him. He gently took her shoulders and turned her to face him, looking her directly in the eye. Tentatively, he spoke. "I know you don't think you know who I am anymore. I don't really know who I am. All I know is that when I'm around you, I am a different person. A better person, and I don't want to lose that. And that I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone, and I am willing to give up anything for you. I die without you."

The tears were streaming down her face. "Another trick, Tom?"

"Never. Please Verona, I am begging you."

She stared at him for a long time, sizing him up. Something in him made her melt, something in his eyes. They were sincere. The charming, manipulative attitude he'd taken on toward the world to get what he wanted, no, this was something else, something else entirely. Lord Voldemort was miles away; here, there was only Tom Riddle, and there was no doubt that he loved her.

She took his face in her hands. "I love you too, Tom. But you can't hurt me again, or I swear I'll die…" she could barely finish her words, she was so choked up. She kissed him, hard, and he held her, the two of them alone against the world.

His emotion had gotten the best of him, but for once, he didn't feel weak. He felt alive.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Here Comes the Snake

It was summer again, and that meant more letters and more time apart for Tom and Verona. There was an upside to this summer, however: both orphanages had agreed to let him visit her for a short week in June.

When Tom arrived, Verona could hardly contain herself. She burst through the door and embraced him, planting a kiss on his lips. The other orphans whistled and laughed nervously, some of them too young to understand.

"I've missed you," said Tom, his eyes sparkling their brilliant green.

She smiled. "I know."

She took him by the hand and lead him inside. His eyes moved in all different directions, taking in the magical orphanage he had missed out on for all these years. He was envious, but ecstatic to be with Verona again.

She lead him towards a flight of stairs, where a small boy of about 4 or 5 was sitting. The child's eyes grew large when Tom passed by.

"Miss Verona," he asked, still staring at Tom.

She smiled warmly at him. "Well hello, Louis! I didn't even see you there. How's my favorite little brother today?"

The boy still did not budge his glance. "Can I meet your friend?"

Verona chuckled. "Well of course you can! Louis, this is Tom Riddle."

Tom smiled, bending over and extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Louis did not take the hand, said nothing, and kept staring. After a long and awkward pause, one of the nursemaids called for him. His gaze was broken, and he leapt from the stairs as if his life depended on it.

"Hmm," Verona said, puzzled. "He's never done that before. Strange."

"It's alright," Tom said, watching Louis run away. "I have that effect on lesser minds. Children, animals, that sort of thing. The child is muggle-born, is he not?"

She stared at him. "Quite a guess. How did you know?"

His eyes narrowed. "Just a feeling."

***

Tom was a hit at dinner. Except for Louis, who stared in the same ridiculous fashion as before, all the children and nursemaids were completely fixated on him. He was charming and charismatic, telling stories of his days at Hogwarts and at the muggle orphanage, making them all laugh heartily. Verona just smiled warmly and placed a hand on his, which he grasped lightly, looking at her with adoring eyes. The nursemaids winked at each other and at Verona and chuckled knowingly. They were happy – after almost 17 years of being an unwanted child, she was finally leaving them for a good home. Maybe not the one they had originally planned, but a loving one anyway.

After dinner, Verona walked Tom to his room, a private room across from her group bedroom that the staff reserved for guests only. She smiled and blushed when they arrived, and looked down at the ground. "Well…goodnight," she said shyly, kissed him, then went to her room.

***

An hour later, and she still wasn't asleep. She hadn't even changed out of her clothes yet. She sat on her bed, admiring the roses Tom had given her a summer before. They were still alive and healthy, perhaps even more beautiful than when she first received them. She gently fingered one, letting the silky tips slide through her hands. She moved her fingers down the stem, pricking herself on one of the thorns. She let out a little cry, stared at the wound that was already healing itself. It was a shame she couldn't heal her heart that way as well.

Without even thinking about what she was doing, she put her feet on the floor and began walking towards the hallway that separated her and Tom's room. Her body was carrying her along, almost of its own free will, a separate entity. She turned her door handle. She wandered into the hall. She tried his door handle: open. She opened his door.

Surprisingly, he was wide awake, lounging on his bed reading. The expression on his face was hard to read, almost as if he was expecting her, but trying to cover it up by looking surprised. "Verona…" he said, closing his book and tossing it to one side.

She stared at him blankly. "I don't even know what brought me here...was I doing something?" She shrugged. "Oh well…I'm glad I'm here now." She sat down next to him, smiling.

He smiled back. "I am too."

There was a pause. Tentatively, she leaned down and kissed him.

He didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled on top of her.

That night, for the first time, they made love, very tenderly.

***

Later, when they had finished, they lay entwined in his bed while he traced his fingers up and down her arm. They were both totally content.

"Tom?" Verona asked. "Do you think we could do this?"

He smiled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…could we…you know, do what other couples do? Function like them? Be normal?"

He laughed a little. "I don't think we'd ever be normal. But sure, we could do this. I want to do this."

They smiled at each other, and he kissed her forehead lovingly.

"Could we even be parents? Would they allow me to…I mean, my parents…"

He hushed her. "Of course we could. I would make sure of it. I would do whatever I had to."

There was a moment of silence as she cuddled in closer to him, her head tucked neatly under his chin.

"Tom? What were your parents like? Do you remember at all?"

He stiffened a little, but still held her tightly. "I don't remember much," he began, "but my mother lived just long enough to name me. My muggle father slaughtered her shortly thereafter. He tried to kill me too, but…I don't know, perhaps I appealed to his better nature in the end. Or someone found me. I'm not really sure what happened. The muggle nursemaids seem apprehensive to tell me."

She stiffened as well. "He really did that to you? Left you like that?"

He nodded. "He's killed since then, I've heard. He swore that if he ever found me, he'd kill me too, and any children I bore. He's a monster. And he hasn't been caught yet. Last I heard, he was in Little Hangleton, wherever that is." He knew it was a lie, but as much as he tried to suppress it, he couldn't. He saw, in Verona's curiosity, an opportunity. He hated to use her like that, but it had to be done.

Verona swallowed. "He'd kill your children too?"

He nodded again. "If I ever see him again, I swear I'll kill him."

She blinked hard, trying to keep her feelings of vengeance down, but it was no use. He had hurt Tom, and his time on this earth was way past over.

"Suppose I could help you find him…would you let me?"

She couldn't see his face, but if she could have, she would have seen a very evil smirk spread across his face. Despite this, his tone stayed just as grave.

"Oh Verona, I would never want you to come into something that could hurt you."

"But I want to," she said, yawning, drifting off to sleep. "He deserves everything he gets. He didn't deserve you."

Before long, she was asleep in his arms. He kissed her forehead, still smirking.

Despite his undying love for her, he couldn't help but laugh. How surprised she would be when she discovered that the alter-ego she had so hated, Lord Voldemort, she had helped create!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Angel of Death

A few nights after their conversation in Tom's bed, the two of them left the orphanage in the middle of the night for Little Hangleton, which was less than five miles down the road. Their manner was somber; they said almost nothing to each other, just moved down the cobblestone path slowly. When they reached the town an hour and a half later, Tom's pace quickened. He had said he wasn't sure where the house was, but it seemed as if he had been lying. Verona didn't pay much attention. As much as she hated Tom's father, she couldn't quite come to terms with what she was about to do.

They hadn't been walking five minutes before they came to a little white house with a stone wall and gate out front. The inscription on the gate said "Riddle."

This was it. Both of them took a deep breath. Verona stared at the ground. Tom took her hand and smiled at her encouragingly. Her lips curled in a half-smile, she shook her head to clear her mind, and continued through the gate.

They came to the door. It was locked. Verona backed up and took a running start at the door, throwing her weight at the center of it. Instantly, it budged open, revealing the contents inside. It was dark and dusty, and smelled of alcohol. Tom scowled at that. "I might have known he was an alcoholic," he said.

It was like any other muggle household. They quietly creeped up the stairs to what they presumed were the bedrooms. There were three rooms, all three with the doors wide open. In one slept a very elderly couple, in the other, a handsome man who strongly resembled Tom, his bed partially bathed in moonlight.

Verona nodded nervously. "Right then, let's get this over with." The two of them made their way into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Tom didn't hesitate. He continued briskly to the foot of the bed, wand drawn, and yanked the blanket from the sleeping man, who was roused immediately and sat up. Verona stayed in the shadows, hidden from view. Tom pointed his wand at the man. "Hello father."

Frightened realization splashed across the man's face. "You…" he stammered. "I always knew you would come for me in the end…" he drew the blankets up around his face, attempting to hide.

Tom laughed wickedly. "No, Tom. Not me." He stepped aside, letting Verona take her place in the moonlight beside him, her black wings fluttering.

The man gasped harshly, panicking at the sight of her. "You brought the Angel of Death upon me!" He threw off the blankets, scrambling around desperately, trying to find an exit.

His cowardice angered Verona. She threw her head back and let out a loud and inhuman scream, her teeth bared and eyes yellowing. She leapt over the bed and grabbed his arm with such force it was immediately dislocated. He cried out in pain and crumbled to the floor, turning his head to stare into her eyes, eyes that saw nothing but a meal, were nothing but a deep pool of hatred.

The man's eyes began to tear. "Please," he begged her, "I was afraid…you have to understand that. That's why I left." He looked quickly at Tom, then at Verona. "Please…I didn't love her. She...made me love her."

Verona's grasp loosened around his wrist. "But…I thought that…"

Tom silenced her. "He lies Verona! Don't you see? He's trying to escape his past!"

"You have to believe me!" The man cried. "You're an angel! You know what's right!" He was staring into her soul, pleading with her, persuading her.

There was a sobering pause that seemed to go on forever. The only sound was the three of them panting, waiting, watching.

The silence was broken by a shrill scream from the doorway. Tom and Verona whirled around to see the elderly couple had discovered them.

The elderly man scowled at Tom and said, "I knew you'd come back, you little bastard child, I just knew it!"

His statement angered Verona. She realized in that moment that everything Tom had said was true - they were a threat to Tom, to her, to her children. In that moment, all hell broke loose. She tightened her fingers around the man's wrist again and yanked him up to her. He let out a little cry as she threw his head to the side, lowered her mouth to his neck, and made a puncture with her teeth. At the same time, the elderly couple let out another unified scream and started running down the stairs, Tom at their heels. As the man in Verona's arms began to go into his death throes, she heard Tom scream the killing curse twice, and heard two thuds hit the floor, and, before she had drained him completely, she dropped the man to the floor. She turned away from him as Tom came back into the room.

On Tom's face was a broad and evil smirk. He laughed when he saw his pale and twitching father on the floor, then turned to Verona and stroked her cheek, which was stained with the man's blood. "Thank you, my love." She nodded, then started towards the door.

When she made it into the hallway, she turned back for a final glance at Tom, who was kneeling by his father's side, removing something from his hand. It was a ring, a ring that Tom held up to the light and smiled broadly at. Something felt wrong, something in the pit of her stomach…

She ignored it, slammed the door, and continued down the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dead Man's Burden

"Tom, you seem…different somehow."

"Do I? How so?"

Verona paused. She couldn't quite place it. Something about his face was strange and new. It was paler and thinner than usual. His eyes looked a little darker, had lost some of their attractive glint. It was disconcerting to her, but there was no way to express that to him. Perhaps he was just more tired than usual. He had been working so hard lately – he was Head Boy, he'd just received a medal for magical merit, not to mention he'd been working himself to death trying to raise money for…whatever it was he was trying to raise money for. Being in his presence was almost draining, but she loved him more than anything and knew he'd be saddened if she avoided him.

She turned to face him and took his hands in hers, then sighed. "It's nothing, Tom. You just seem tired, that's all."

He looked down at the ground. "Truth be told, I'm completely exhausted."

"Maybe you should take a day off or something," she said hopefully, "you know, play hooky from work or school or something." She smiled warmly. "I could come too if you wanted."

He shook his head. "I would say yes, but I don't feel like it's that simple for me."

She was confused. "Why do you say that?"

He sighed. "You know what it's like to be a poor orphan, Verona. You work your fingers to the bone your whole life so you can become something great. And I'm planning for something great. Something that will be great for the both of us. And I want us to have everything we could ever want." He looked off into the distance, searching for something, courage perhaps, then back at her. "And I wanted to ask you something."

He reached inside of his robes and removed a small, black velvet box. He opened it, and inside was the golden ring he had removed from his deceased father's finger. He knelt down and asked, "Verona, will you marry me?"

She felt a million emotions at once. Her first instinct was to tackle him and announce a resounding "Yes!", but the sight of the ring frightened her. It looked like a black hole atop a golden band that would weigh down the strongest of men. She had to look away from it and back at Tom.

"Tom, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you-"

His face hardened. "But?" He asked harshly.

She sighed. "Please, don't read into my statement any lack of affection. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. But I can't accept that ring."

He snapped the box shut and stood up quickly. "My God Verona, you're so weak." He said angrily. "I have nothing else to give you but this ring and my heart, and you refuse."

Verona could tell that his anger was a mask for his hurt. "Tom, please. You know how I feel about you, and you know how I feel about that night. It haunts me, no matter what he did to you. Please, try to understand that."

He cracked his neck, looked away, then back at her. "I do. But please, try to understand this: I love you, and I want the world to know that. This ring…I can't really explain it, but it's the only thing that I feel connects me to my mother, to my real family, and you're the only person I would ever dream of giving it to. It needs to be kept safe, and I feel with you that is so. Please…at least wear it until I can find a replacement."

Verona considered this for a few long moments. She looked deep into his eyes, his endless green pools of light, and something in her softened, like it always had.

She extended her left hand, her pale fingers outstretched towards him. "I'm sorry Tom. Please, let me wear it. I want to wear it…I would love to wear it."

He opened the box again and placed the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly to her slender finger, despite the fact that it was made for a man. It felt heavy, just as she had expected, and it felt hot for some reason, a sensation she ignored.

She stared down at it and smiled, then kissed him. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," she said.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Upside-Down

_Five Years Later_

After their graduation from Hogwarts, things had gotten harder for Tom and Verona. Tom had insisted on moving somewhere they wouldn't be bothered, somewhere far away from civilization, and the move had drained them of their finances. They hardly saw each other, as they were both working hard to regain those finances: Tom had gotten a steady job at a shop called Borgin and Burke's, and Verona had joined the faculty of Hogwarts as its "protector" – things had gotten strange in those hallowed halls and the headmaster feared that dark forces were trying to infiltrate them, so Verona had agreed to prowl the school at night and protect its students at any cost.

Even when they were together, Tom was distant. He was always bringing artifacts home from work to play with, books to read. He was out at all hours of the night, and had started to look even more gaunt and exhausted then before. When he did come home, he crawled into bed and turned away from Verona, almost as if he was ashamed to tell her what he had done. Meanwhile, she carried the engagement ring on her finger like a beast of burden: it burned her hand, caused her horrible headaches, and seemed to have a mind of its own. When Tom wasn't around, she didn't wear it.

One particular night, Verona was still awake when he crept into their bed. She rolled over and draped an arm over him, and asked, "Where do you go?"

He tensed at the sound of her words, but relaxed at her touch, and turned over to face her. "Always looking to make life better for us."

She shrugged. "I really don't need much. Just you."

He stroked her hair gently and kissed her. "You have meant more to me than anything," he said. "Please…whatever happens, don't ever think any differently."

"Whatever happens?" She asked. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Sometimes I feel like I'm losing myself."

Their eyes met for a moment, and he pulled her in close, and they fell asleep.

***

One night, Tom came home earlier than usual looking exhausted and irritated. Verona stood up from her chair, startled at his sudden appearance. He rushed past her without a word and went straight into the kitchen. He slumped down at the table and poured himself a glass of ale, which he finished immediately, then poured himself another.

Verona crept tentatively into the kitchen. "Um…is something wrong?"

He stared up at her quickly, and to her horror, she realized his eyes were no longer that brilliant green she had come to love – they were a deep and burning red, with cat-like slits for pupils.

She stumbled backwards, panting nervously. "Tom," she asked, "what's wrong with you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Nothing is wrong with me, Verona. What's wrong is how I have to be interrogated when anything seems a little bit off to you." He went back to his ale.

She wouldn't be beaten down this time. "No Tom, you can't just ignore me like that! There is something wrong with you! It's like…it's like you're not even human anymore!"

"Oh, and what would you know about being human, Verona? You haven't aged a damn day since we met, maybe I should be asking YOU what's wrong!" He threw his glass across the room and it shattered into a million pieces.

"Just shut up! You can't back track and lay this on me anymore! I'm not a fool, Tom. Did you really think I wouldn't read any of those stupid books you bring home? I know what you're doing, why you look the way you do. It disgusts me, to think you would sacrifice your own soul just to become immortal, to become that Voldemort character! That's why we killed your father and your grandparents! They never threatened you, you just wanted to live forever! This stupid ring, it's got part of you in it, and it's evil, and it burns me, and I think it's killing me. And to think I fell for it, I fell for every goddamned word!"

"Oh, I see," his demeanor was now incredibly calm, "you've got it all figured out, don't you? Well I believe congratulations are in order, aren't they? So prove it, Verona. Prove to someone at the Ministry, someone at Hogwarts, someone that cares, and you'll find your little theory will be in shambles. No one wants to hear that the greatest student to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is killing people and tearing his own soul apart. No one is going to listen to you."

She laughed through her enraged tears and shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Tom. I would never sell you out, that's not the point. The point is that I know what you did. I know you killed those people. And that you lied to me, even though I am the only person you have ever loved, and the only person that has ever loved you in return."

There was a moment of silence between them, deep, profound, heartbreaking. Finally, she said, "I love you Tom. But I'm leaving." She removed the ring from her finger and set it on the table in front of him, then turned to go.

He turned the table over and ran to her, but she was prepared this time. She rounded on him and ran her nails across his face, creating a deep set of cuts that bled a dark crimson red. He clutched his face and stumbled back a bit, looking shocked. She burst into tears. "I'm sorry Tom," she said, "but I can't just sit back and-"

Before she could finish her sentence, he had his hand around her forearm again, much like that time so many years ago outside of Slughorn's office. Only this time, the burn was much deeper, and caused her to scream in pain. He let go, and she fell to her knees and onto the floor, clutching her raw and red arm to her chest. It was more painful than anything she had ever felt, even more painful than her broken heart. He looked down at her without love, without any sort of emotion at all, and dropped the ring on the floor beside her.

"You…disgust me," she said. "You're not human. You are…nothing to me." She knew it was a lie, but she didn't know what else to say.

There was a split second of weakness in Tom's gaze, but it was quickly replaced by his same cool and stony gaze. "Goodbye, Verona. I thought you could be strong. But I guess I was wrong."

He stepped over her and walked out the front door, leaving all of his possessions, including the engagement ring, behind.

After a while, she glanced down at her burning arm. There, etched into her skin like a brand, was a skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The Wizard Formerly Known as Tom Riddle

_20 Years Later_

Verona was having another one of her splitting headaches.

She knelt down in the middle of the Hogwarts corridor, shutting her eyes tightly and massaging her temples. This was the worst one she'd ever had, ever since Tom had disappeared anyway. She couldn't recall another time it had burnt this deeply. She pushed up her long sleeves and stared down at her forearm, the skull brand he had given her all those years ago. It was burning like new.

She suddenly felt the urge to be sick, and did what she always did in that situation – she removed the ring he had given her from her left finger and dropped it on the ground. Instantly, the pain and nausea stopped. She wiped a hand across her forehead, then took a set of gloves and velvet sack from her pocket. She slid the gloves on, then very carefully bent down and put the ring in the sack, then behind a stone pillar where it would stay until she needed it again.

She didn't really know why she still wore it. She wanted to tell herself that she didn't love him anymore, that she didn't even want to be in his presence, but something, a very tiny something, always protested inside of her. She at least wanted to know that he was alright, that a small part of Tom Riddle still existed, no matter how distorted. The ring, which she knew encased a tiny part of his soul, gave her this comfort.

***

One day during the summer, Verona was prowling the corridors as usual when she heard voices coming from Dumbledore's office. Never one to pass up her own curiosity, she crept down and pressed herself against a wall so as to not be seen.

"…and where have you been since you left Hogwarts?" She heard Dumbledore ask.

"Travelling mostly. Honing my craft, becoming qualified for this position." The voice was male, and sounded familiar, but it had a metallic ring to it that sounded inhuman. It wasn't vampire or werewolf – it was something she'd never heard before.

"And you look so different! Really Tom, I hardly recognized you."

"Please, I'm going by a different name now. Something I picked up in Albania, you may have heard it in certain circles – Lord Voldemort."

Verona's heart skipped a beat and her breathing quickened. It couldn't be him…he was gone. Wasn't he?

She took a deep breath, tossed her hair and smoothed her wrinkled clothes, then turned the corner, trying to look natural as if she hadn't been listening.

The two men had their backs to her, but when they heard her footsteps, they whirled around immediately.

She stifled a gasp and jumped a little as her eyes zeroed in on Tom's face. It was even paler than before, and had taken on an almost snake-like quality. His eyes were that crazed deep red she had seen all those years ago, and his nose was nothing but two slits for breathing. He had lost all of his hair, had grown to an incredible height, and his fingers were abnormally long and ghastly.

There was an awkward silence between them as they studied each other. Nothing moved, nothing even made a sound – there was only the two of them, and nothing else mattered.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Lord Voldemort, I believe you know Verona."

Her eyes welled up with tears as he said, "Yes, we've been acquainted."

She said nothing, but stared uneasily.

"Verona?" Dumbledore asked. "_Tom Riddle!"_ He mouthed, as if trying to give her a hint, as if she had only met him once or twice at school.

She swallowed hard. "Oh…right. How are you Lord…um…Voldemort?"

There was another pause as he sighed. "I'm fine, Verona. Never felt better, actually."

Another pause, which Dumbledore broke again. "Oh dear, I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me for a moment and put our interview on hold. You see, I've been trying to make this soufflé for quite some time now and I'm afraid I'm burning it. I'll be back shortly!"

He turned quickly on his heels and left their presence, left the two of them staring intently at each other.

Voldemort rolled his shoulders back to make himself even taller. "Well, Verona, once again, you haven't changed a bit." He smiled a little, his eyes growing softer.

"No, I haven't. I'm afraid the same can't be said of you, Tom."

He laughed. "Yes, well, these transformations are just undesirable side-effects of a larger picture."

"I see." Her lips curled in a sneer a bit, and she crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"

He took a few steps closer to her to close the gap. "I'm interviewing for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

She stiffened. "You know he's never going to give you that job. He's not a fool, and neither am I. You don't really want to teach here, do you?"

He took another step forward, and she a step back. He looked at her lovingly. "You were always so smart, Verona. Always so strong. I told you before, I'd never hurt you."

She snorted and yanked up her sleeve. "Then what the hell is this?"

His eyes widened a bit when he saw the brand. "Ahh, that." He moved forward again and stretched a lanky arm out to touch her. He brushed his fingertips against it – they were ice cold, even colder than her own skin. She pulled her sleeve down again, but she didn't back up. They were within inches of each other.

There was another long and terrible pause, until she took another step into him.

"There hasn't been a single day that I haven't thought about you, about what you did to me. And yet…"

She laid a hand on his cheek, and something amazing happened – it was as if he had never gone through his transformations. His cheeks flushed with his natural color, and his eyes turned back to their brilliant green. He looked human again, like the Tom she once knew.

He took her left hand and stared down at her ring finger, stared down at the engagement ring he had given her. "Why do you still wear it?"

She tried to speak through her tears. "I don't know. Because I can't stop thinking about you, even after twenty years."

He smiled. "I love you Verona. I always have, and I always will."

He leaned in to kiss her, but Verona turned her head. "I'm sorry Tom. I…I can't."

She backed away from him, dropped her hands from his. Instantly, his face returned to its snake-like and hellish state. He looked at her sadly, as sadly as he could through his steely red eyes. "I understand."

At that moment, Dumbledore returned. "Blasted soufflés never turn out the way I want them to. I'm sorry, Lord Voldemort – are you ready for our interview."

He didn't turn away from Verona, but answered, "Of course. Please, do your worst."

Dumbledore smiled and turned to his office. "Alright then, shall we?"

Voldemort took a few steps backwards before breaking his eye contact with Verona and turning around to follow the Headmaster.

Even after they had gone, Verona stayed there still, eyeing the place where he had stood.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Prophecy

Tom hadn't gotten the job as Verona predicted. She realized now that the ring was an indication of his emotions, and because Dumbledore's refusal had angered him so, she had had to remove it several times because it was causing her terrible pain and nausea. The brand on her arm burned like a white hot iron, stinging and throbbing.

She had heard his name in certain circles, just like he had said. Not Tom Riddle of course, but Lord Voldemort. He'd grown terribly popular and his word had spread like wildfire, gathering followers left and right. They were, of course, people you would expect to give into him – people blinded by hatred of the unknown, like the Malfoy family; people blinded by a love for something they didn't really understand, like the Lestrange family. She could sense that a storm was coming, but no one else seemed to notice.

Or perhaps they did, but the children she interacted with at Hogwarts were too naive to think much of it. She loved the children, all of them, and the brave ones loved her back. There was Lilly Evans, a very beautiful and talented young witch; James Potter, a rambunctious and almost arrogant little stooge; Sirius Black, who hung around with the Potter boy – enough said; Remus Lupin, who, as a vampire, she was sworn to hate – he had become a werewolf after being bitten by Fenrir Greyback, although she couldn't help but enjoy his company; and Severus Snape, although she wasn't quite sure what to make of him. Strange boy. Brilliant in potions, though.

The years flew by so quickly. The children grew into very talented witches and wizards, and she was quite proud of them – they were prepared to make a life for themselves in what was quickly becoming a very hostile world. You see, when Verona was off in the summers, she was one of the most sought after Aurors in the wizarding world, and she'd gotten a glimpse into what Voldemort was prepared to do to take power. He'd killed so many already, and it hurt her to know what her beloved had done…what her ONCE beloved had done. She had to keep reminding herself of that, although she got a stark reminder every time she witness one of his victims, their eyes unseeing, their bodies twisted into an inhuman position. Sometimes, there were no bodies – she'd heard he'd gotten into the habit of keeping a pet snake, one that would sometimes feed on the remains. She couldn't believe someone she had loved could possibly do something that ghastly. When she saw the scenes, she would twist the ring on her finger nervously and pull down her sleeve to cover what was becoming a very disgusting mark to have – the Dark Mark they called it, something he used to brand his followers. Her coworkers stared at it with suspicion, but all she could do was laugh nervously and hope no one ever caught on.

After their graduation from Hogwarts, Verona still kept in touch with many of her favorite students. James and Lilly had gotten married, and Sirius and Remus had gone on to bigger and better things in the wizarding world. Severus had unfortunately fallen into the league of the "Dark Lord" as they were calling him now – silly really, he'd always be that boy on the train to her – and she'd lost touch with him really.

When Lilly Potter became pregnant, Verona received one of the greatest honors of her life. The Potters had asked her to be the baby's godmother, a child to be named Harry. She had accepted with gusto, swearing to love the child as if it were her own. Perhaps they hadn't chosen her because they were the best of friends, but they knew that if you wanted to keep something safe, you put it in the custody of Verona Doringen, especially when the Dark Lord was hot on your trail.

***

One day, as Verona was prowling the corridors, she heard quite a ruckus coming from some lofty space in the castle. Keen not to let a disturbance pass her by, she followed her ears down the hallways, into the East Wing, up the stairs to the third floor, and into the hallway where Professor Sibyll Trelawney was quartered.

Verona rolled her eyes. Trelawney was crazy as a loon, breezing in and out of classes, predicting the death of some terrified student, and trying to validate her credentials in the "art" of divination.

Despite her first instincts – you could really only take what Trelawney said or did with a grain of salt – Verona decided to make sure she hadn't fallen or hurt herself.

She knocked on the door and said, "Sibyll? It's Verona Doringen. Is everything alright?"

There was no answer, just clattering and then a scream of pain.

Verona didn't hesitate. She took a flying leap at the door and broke it down, then looked around the room for any sign of trouble. Nothing – no Trelawney, no sign of a struggle, just nothing. She sighed and started to leave when she saw her out of the corner of her eye, just sitting in a window, staring at her.

Verona jumped and laughed a little. "Oh Sibyll, you scared me! I didn't see-"

"You who was loved by the Dark Lord, you and you alone who have the power to stop him…"

Verona stiffened. She couldn't possibly know any of that...there was no way…

"You who possess his soul, the last of his human form!"

The ring! Someone had caught on and told her!

"You who are the protector of the one the Dark Lord must destroy to survive, listen to this, and heed my words - ___The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

Sibyll slumped down into her window seat, suddenly exhausted. As quickly as her vision had come on, it had ended. She stared at Verona, confused by her presence.

"I'm sorry, Verona," she began, "did I invite you here? I don't recall…"

Verona didn't stay to hear the rest of her words. She sped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, making her way to Dumbledore's office. Surely there was some truth to Trelawney's words this time – how else could she have possibly known everything about her and Tom?

When she finally reached the office, Dumbledore was already coming down the stairs in his bathrobe.

"Albus!" She panted, relieved to see him. "I believe the Potters are in very real danger. Please, you have to…"

He held up a hand to silence her. "Alert the Order of the Phoenix immediately."

She nodded, panting and noticeably in a panic.

He gripped her shoulders to steady her. "Verona, this is why the Potters wanted you as Harry's godmother. You are strong, you are daunting, and you're the only one the Dark Lord prizes more than himself. You have the power to stop this."

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes, accepting the fact that he knew her story. He had always known, she realized in that moment. Everyone had always known.

"She said the baby would be born at the end of July. That gives them time to find a hiding place, somewhere nobody can find them," she said slowly.

"You're right," he began, "but they won't have time if you don't hurry!"

She nodded and hurried toward the open window, spread her wings, and flew towards the Potter residence as fast as she could.

_So help me God,_ she thought to herself, _if he even lays a hand on that child, I'll kill him myself._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Please Verona, we're begging you. You're the only one we feel we can trust nowadays."

"Lilly, you don't understand. This is more than…

"We are on bended knee!"

James Potter's words hung in the air like a mist after a storm. They were convinced, determined even, to make Verona their secret keeper – she and only she would know where they were going, who they were going with, and when they were going to get there and how. They didn't understand her apprehension, why she was so tentative to protect their lives after she had so fiercely vowed to protect Harry's.

Verona twisted the ring on her left hand nervously. "I don't expect you to understand," she began. "Just know that there are things that I've done that make me incapable of being your sole protector."

"Oh, I see!" James bellowed. "You're just going to give up, is that it? This job's too tough for you now? Well, by God Verona, if you – "

"Why do you think Dumbledore suggested me as the child's Godmother?!" Verona screamed.

There was a hush in the room, a silence that couldn't be filled because they didn't understand. They didn't know the story. Perhaps they should be enlightened.

"…Because you're inhumanly strong and one of the best Aurors in the business?"

Verona shook her head. "No, that isn't why. He suggested me because…because I'm the only one that has the power to change the Dark Lord's mind. He…he would listen to me…if I asked it of him."

The couple looked incredibly puzzled. Verona sighed, then pushed up her sleeve, revealing the brand she was so ashamed of. They gasped and drew their wands, backing away nervously.

She snorted. "Are you going to kill me now? Do you really think you could?" She pushed her sleeves down, then slumped down in a nearby chair. "This is the first Dark Mark Voldemort ever gave to anybody. You see, back when he was Tom Riddle, well…we were well-acquainted. Let's just leave it at that."

They still stood there, watching her, wands at the ready.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. You have to understand that. You're the closest thing to family I have, and I would be devastated if you took your child out of my care. But as my family, you have to understand this: he will find me. Or he won't find me, he'll just read my god damn mind, seeing the connection we have is still strong –" she twisted the ring on her finger again, " – and when he does, he will kill you. ALL of you." She stood up, trying to look intimidating and impose her will on them. "Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew. Use him. He seems trustworthy enough."

The couple said nothing, but pocketed their wands again.

"When will we see you again?" Lilly asked.

Verona sighed. "I don't know. When I've finally gotten rid of him…Tom." She caught herself, then laughed. "When I've finally killed Lord Voldemort."

***

It was the end of July. Harry Potter had been born, his whereabouts were still unknown, and all was as it should be – sort of. Verona was sitting in a pub, enjoying a pint of blood, passing the time. It had been one hell of a week – Death Eaters everywhere, breaking into various places, wreaking havoc and leaving hundreds of victims in their wake. There was no trace of Voldemort. Even when her arm burnt like new and the ring made her temples throb, he kept his location secret. Perhaps she knew he was hot on his trail – perhaps he even wanted her to catch him, then decided against it. Either way, the Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix were back where they started – nowhere.

She paid her tab and got up to leave, when she noticed a shadow in the pub window. She inched closer to it and peered out.

"Right then, what's all the – "

"Shhh!" Verona silenced the barkeep and pressed her ear to the window.

A flash of light and she was knocked flat on the ground. The window had been broken with tremendous force. Verona's vision became hazy, and she had to blink several times to see her assailant. Standing on her chest was Bellatrix Lestrange, her wand pointed between Verona's eyes.

"Well if it isn't the Vampire Queen herself? I hear you're doing well for yourself nowadays, with that fancy job as an Auror and all. Tell me, why is it that the Dark Lord seems to evade you at every turn if you're so good?"

Verona wasn't paying too much attention to Bellatrix's words. She was peering around the room as best she could, sizing up the Death Eaters in the room. There were four of them, nothing she couldn't handle normally, but unfortunately, Fenrir Greyback had tagged along. That would be a problem.

"Still sore about Tom after all these years? Tsk, Tsk, Bella," Verona mocked, causing Bella to sneer.

The barkeep, who had been standing unnoticed in the corner, slowly drew his wand. Bellatrix's eyes moved for a split second to him – that was all Verona needed. She grabbed Bella's arm with one hand and yanked her down to her level, gripping her throat with the other hand. In one fluid motion, she threw her into the stone wall of the pub, knocking her unconscious. She quickly rose to her feet, waiting for the rest of the Death Eaters to attack her.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ One of them hissed, throwing a flash of green light her way. She nimbly jumped over the curse, taking a flying dive at her assailant and landing a square punch to his nose, breaking it instantly. He screamed in pain as she whirled around, daring the others to come after her. They stood there, unmoving, waiting for something to happen.

Finally, Fenrir rolled his eyes. "Run along and tell the Dark Lord nothing of this! I'll deal with the bitch myself."

They complied, leaving their fallen brethren behind.

Verona and Fenrir circled each other for a long time, inching closer at every step. Finally, she threw her head back and bared her teeth, letting out an inhuman scream. He did quite the same, and they flew at each other, catching in mid-air.

A brutal battle ensued. Every wound the other gave each other was immediately healed and did not bleed. He was proving too strong for her, and rolled her on her back, clutching her throat and restricting her breath.

He strangled her for an incredibly long time, and she squirmed, unable to breathe, but unable to die because of what she was. Her vision grew darker, then came in again; she started choking, then felt like new again. She searched for something to wound him with, something that would really hurt him, when she saw it: a silver butcher knife. She inched her fingers towards it, keeping her eyes on him so he wouldn't catch wise. Got it: she clutched her fingers around it and stabbed him in the gut. He howled in pain, instantly letting go of her throat and stumbling backwards, maybe to die. He slumped against the bar, panting and delirious from the pain.

When she had recovered from her breathing restriction, she knelt beside him, pulled the knife from his abdomen and put it to his throat. "WHY DID YOU COME HERE?!" She bellowed, pressing the blade to his jugular.

He didn't answer, just let his head droop to one side. She grabbed his filthy matted hair in her fist and pulled it back up. "WHERE IS VOLDEMORT?! TELL ME, OR I SWEAR I'LL CUT YOUR WORTHLESS THROAT!"

He stared at her and focused his eyes a bit, then started laughing.

"What the hell is so funny?" She pressed the blade even closer.

"Go ahead, kill me, you'll never save that Potter boy now." He laughed again, a pink viscous material spilling from his lips.

"What do you mean? TELL ME!" She slid the blade over his face, creating a deep gash.

He laughed again. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born at the end of July…_I don't think he liked that very much. He's got a spy, a spy who knows everything…" more hysterical laughter. "And the best part about that? He was their secret keeper! I guess he wasn't very good at it!"

A slow realization donned on Verona – Peter Pettigrew was the spy. He'd told Voldemort everything, and now he was going to kill the Potters.

"WHERE?!" She screamed.

He laughed again. "I'll never tell you!"

She pressed the blade so far into his skin it drew blood. "Not if you are dead, no, you won't."

For a moment, he looked frightened. Perhaps of what she would do, perhaps of what the Dark Lord would do if he knew what he was about to do. Either way, he gave in.

"They're at some place called Little Hangleton."

The name sent chills up her spine. She let his head go and threw the knife far away from his reach.

He laughed again. "But it doesn't matter now. You'll never make it in time to save them!"

She grabbed his head and slammed it against the bar, knocking him unconscious. She ran outside and spread her wings, flying faster than she ever thought possible.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Face to Face

Verona flew faster than she ever had before. She flew so that the wind stung her eyes, so that her wings felt as if they would break. She had to make it – if she didn't, she was a worthless godparent and friend. Perhaps she would even catch Tom as he walked through the door – wouldn't he be surprised to see her? Maybe he would kill her in the battle that ensued – she didn't really care, just so long as Harry Potter lived.

She saw Little Hangleton sitting peacefully below her, and she dove down to find the house. They were living under a fake name – _The Downsley's was it?_ She thought to herself. Her mind was racing. She landed in the middle of the town, sprinting down the road and studying every gate. _The Dovers? Come on, damnit! Remember!_

She came up on a large white farm house with a picket fence and a mailbox that bore the name _The Dursleys. _A light went off in her head – this was it. A wave of relief washed over her as she ran towards the house. When she reached the fence, she noticed the gate had been left open. _Or blown open,_ she thought to herself. She shuddered. She couldn't have been late, there was no way. It was too ghastly.

There were lights on inside the house, and when she peered in the window, she couldn't see a sign of any struggle. _Right then,_ she thought, _no worries. Just calmly open the door…_

She took a deep breath and turned the handle and slowly opened the door. At the halfway point, she noticed that it hit something heavy and hollow sounding. She stopped sharply and closed her eyes. Her breathing turned shallow as she slowly and reluctantly peered around the door. There, in a crumpled heap on the floor, was James Potter, his eyes unseeing and lifeless.

She covered her mouth to keep her sobs from coming out too loudly. She was too late, she had failed them. She didn't even want to look for the infant – she didn't want to see. She wiped her eyes and started to leave, when she heard the tiniest little cry from the upstairs bedroom.

She caught her breath and whipped her head towards the stairs, listening for the noise again. She turned her head so that her ear was in the right direction.

Sure enough, she could hear what was clearly a baby crying.

She flew up the stairs and into the bedroom. Lilly Potter was on the floor clutching a screaming bundle in her arms. She knelt at Lilly's side and brushed her cheek. It was cold and ashen – she was dead as well. She pried Lilly's arms open to take the infant from her.

She moved the blanket away from his face and saw a lightning shaped burn on his forehead, not unlike her own brand. He didn't move much, but he was alive. She held the orphan close to her face and sobbed, rocking him in her arms, not understanding what had happened, but glad that she was able to save the precious bundle. She stroked his forehead and kissed it gently, wiping her tears from it.

"I swear," she whispered, "I'll never let anything happen to you again."

She closed her eyes and let the infant rest against her shoulder. Everything was going to be alright now. He was in her care, and she would love him just as…

She heard a groan from behind her. Her eyelids jerked open, and she stood up and whirled around, the infant still in her arms.

There, behind the open door, laid a crumpled Voldemort, his long white left arm pulling him slowly across the floor. He looked worse than ever – he had lost inches, perhaps feet from his height, and he somewhat resembled a human child, but at the same time, didn't look like a child at all. He was dying, his breath shallow and raspy, his eyes bloodshot and sunken in.

Verona wasn't shocked to see him in this fallen state. She looked at him with disdain, disgust even. She held Harry close, taking a few steps back.

"What have you done, Tom?" She said, her lips curled in a snarl, her eyes turning a bright yellow and fangs at the ready.

He coughed, pale green phlegm shooting from his mouth. "Help me, Verona. Please. I'm begging you."

"No," she said, her eyes narrowing, "You deserve everything you get, and I'm not going to bend for you this time." She drew her wand and inched forward. "I'm going to kill you Tom. And I'm not going to feel an ounce of remorse for it."

She pointed her wand at his face, and he stared up at her with tired and sallow eyes. He didn't move or protest – he just lay there, watching her. As she came closer, his eyes focused on her left hand, on the engagement ring that once held so much meaning to her, to the both of them. He stared down at the floor, ashamed.

Her hand shook as she looked deep into his eyes. "_Avada…Avada…" _she started. Why couldn't she finish?

She let out a cry of exasperation, clutching Harry even closer to her chest. "Get out of here, Tom. Don't ever come back. I won't show you the same mercy next time."

He looked up at her again with the same hollow expression. "I'm sorry," he said.

She spat on him. "Your words mean nothing to me." She ran down the stairs and out the door, leaving him to his death, or so she thought.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Witch Trials

When word got out that the Dark Lord had fallen, there was celebration in the streets. Shops that hadn't been able to open for months were back in business again, and a general wave of euphoria swept over the wizarding world. Verona took Harry home to live with her, which she was ecstatic about, but was still in mourning over the loss of her dear friends.

However, there was a lot of housekeeping and paperwork to do after this crisis. Many were being charged and trialed for their involvement with the Dark Lord – some, like the Malfoys, vehemently denied it and got away with it; others, like the lovesick Bellatrix Lestrange, proudly proclaimed their loyalty to Voldemort and went straight to Azkaban.

Meanwhile, Harry and Verona thrived together.

***

One day, after she had put Harry to bed, there was a knock on the door. Standing there was a representative from the ministry of magic, Peter Harpold, who she had worked closely with as an Auror. He looked stiff and uncomfortable, as if someone was holding him hostage.

"Peter, to what do I owe this pleasure?" She smiled tiredly.

"Verona, please don't make this any harder than it already is," he replied nervously.

She stared at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

He held up a roll of parchment with a wax seal, which she recognized as the seal of the Ministry of Magic.

She laughed a little, taking it from his hands. "What is this, a joke? Am I being summoned for my association with the Dark Lord?" She smiled broadly, which was not met with a reaction from Peter. "You have to be kidding me, Peter," she said, her smile fading.

He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Verona." He turned and left, leaving her stunned.

***

The day of the trial came swiftly. She dressed Harry nicely, combing his hair like a little gentleman and placing him in his carrier. He looked upset, irritated even – maybe it was just her imagination, but she sensed that he knew where he was going, and that he wasn't happy about it. His little green eyes met hers, and she gently kissed his forehead, then said, "Don't worry, little one, this will all be over soon."

When she stepped into the room, a large stadium-type with judgmental eyes on all sides, she held her head up high and kept her shoulders back confidently, stepping up to the stand and placing the carrier on the ground.

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, sat there stone-faced, looking down at her coldly. Albus Dumbledore sat nearby, looking hopeful and supportive as always.

She cleared her throat. "Might I know why I have been called here today?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Verona Doringen, the question of whether or not you are a suitable guardian for the infant Harry Potter has been raised," he said, "and quite honestly, my dear, I have my doubts."

She swallowed, suddenly feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her. "And who, might I ask, has raised this question, and what evidence have they presented against me?"

"I did," said a cold voice to her left. She turned to face the sound, and saw Luscius Malfoy, a smug grin on his face, an eyebrow raised pretentiously.

"Luscius," she said disgustedly, "I might have known."

He nodded in acknowledgement, then turned toward the Minister. "My dear and respected friend, one must question whether a vampire is a suitable godparent for ANY human child, let alone one who single-handedly, and without any explanation, brought down the Dark Lord. Especially a vampire with your affiliations."

Anger rose in Verona's chest. "What is that supposed to mean?" She started to sweat – he knew.

He laughed coldly. "I think you know. Might I trouble you, Miss Doringen, to show us all your right forearm?"

She laughed nervously. "Minister, surely this isn't needed –"

"If you have nothing to hide, you'll pull up your sleeve, Verona," said Fudge.

There was a dull roar of whispers around the room. She stared up at Dumbledore for guidance, whose eyes were watering under his half-moon spectacles. She paused for a moment, and took a deep breath. There was no way out of this, nowhere to go. She knelt down to Harry's carrier and kissed his forehead again. He looked deep into her eyes and grabbed her finger as if he knew, as if he didn't want her to go. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I failed you again." She slipped her hand out of his tiny grasp and stood up, taking another deep breath, and pushed up her sleeve, revealing her brand.

Instantly, there were four or five Aurors around her, rudely gripping her shoulders and escorting her out of the room. There were screams of anger and shock around the room, and Harry started wailing, watching her being carried away. She didn't struggle, she merely stared forward at nothing, with eyes that wanted to see just that – nothing and no one.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Redemption

In Azkaban, the days were long and dismal. Screams of pain and anguish echoed through the cold, damp halls. Dementors floated eerily through the corridors, draining the place of any happiness that might exist, their rattling breath like Death's call in Verona's ears. There was a slab of stone to sleep on, a toilet, and a small window that looked out to freedom, to the foggy sea that surrounded the prison. A crazed Bellatrix resided in the cell next to her, bellowing vows of vengeance and pledges of allegiance to Lord Voldemort. Verona wondered if Bella even knew she was neighbors to her most hated enemy. Not that it really mattered. The world had forgotten them both: neither prisoner had any visitors, not even on Christmas.

Verona rotted there for 12 years.

In the summer of her twelfth year, as she was gazing out her window at unreachable freedom, she felt a cold presence at her cell door. Her eyes shifted - a dementor was staring at her, staring through her.

A cold wind blew through her soul, a soul she was apparently going to lose. "No!" She shrieked, "You can't do this! I've done nothing..."

Her shrill cry was interrupted by another presence, this time a very warm and inviting one- a tall man, his white beard reaching the seams of his robes, gazing at her over his half-moon spectacles. It was none other than Albus Dumbledore, his eyes shimmering with tears, arms outstretched towards her.

Her eyes narrowed, her body shifted to an upright position. She looked dignified even now, in her bare feet and dirty prison tunic. "May I inquire as to what I owe this pleasure?" She asked coldly.

He lowered his arms, and a tear fell from his eye. "Verona..."

She turned away from him, stiff. "Why do you think you can just walk in here? After 12 years of losing everything but my mind?" Her voice was calm, her wings fluttered around her.

"Verona, you must understand..."

"I don't want your charity. Get out of here. Maybe you can come back in another 12 years, after I've lost my mind too."

The icy presence of the dementor seemed cheerful compared to the moment of silence between them.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "Verona, please. Allow me to speak my piece. I believe you'll be interested in what I have to say."

Verona turned to face him. "Speak quickly, Albus. And don't waste my time with silly apologies."

He sighed, and pulled a folded piece of parchment from his robes. "I have in my hand," he began, "a pardon. From the Ministry of Magic."

She crossed her arms, trying, but failing, to look disinterested. "A pardon?" She scoffed. "As if I want to throw my lot in with the Ministry of Magic again."

"Don't pretend you don't want to leave this place, Verona," Dumbledore said sternly. "You know you won't get this opportunity again."

She swallowed, her breathing increasing. "What's the catch?" She asked, then shifted her eyes toward the dementor, pointing a finger. "And for God's sakes, can we get rid of that?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid it's necessary in a place like this."

A surge of anger pulsed through Verona. "Well, I'M afraid that if it doesn't leave, I'm going to do something drastic." She stared the hooded figure down, her hand curling into fists.

"Verona," said Dumbledore calmingly, "your anger is consuming you. You have to come to your senses before you get hurt."

"Get out," she said to the dementor, her eyes turning a brilliant yellow. "GET OUT!" She was at eye level with the thing, and bellowed in an inhuman howl, her teeth bared. The room shook, her voice echoing through the halls. Dumbledore fell to his knees, clutching his ears, and screams of pain and terror erupted from the surrounding cells.

Then, something extraordinary happened. The dementor, a creature known for its incredible cruelty and inhumanity, left the cell door open and unattended as if it were frightened.

Dumbledore straightened up, a look of disbelief spread across his face directed at the doubled over and panting Verona. "Now I see..."

She turned her head to face him. "What? What are you talking about?"

"The catch!" He shouted excitedly. "They said you could do it, and I didn't believe it..." He paced around the cell, laughing joyfully as Verona slowly straightened up and looked on. When he caught her staring, he thought it appropriate to explain himself. He paced to her and clutched her hands in his.

"The Ministry of Magic is pardoning you on one condition: as you may or may not know, Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. Panic has swept over the wizarding world, and, unfortunately, the Ministry has opted to send dementors to Hogwarts this year in an attempt to apprehend Black. As you can probably guess, parents are in an uproar about this...but it is necessary considering who attends Hogwarts these days. Your Godson, Verona."

Verona caught her breath and swallowed hard. "...Harry?" She stammered. "Is he..."

"He's fine. He's quite the little adventurer, Verona. You would be proud."

Instantly, Verona broke down at the mention of his name. The only thing that had kept her sane, had kept her alive, was the hope that one day she may be able to return to her beloved Godson Harry. She sank to the floor, no longer caring about her dignity.

Dumbledore knelt beside her. "Verona, what you just did...was incredible. You frightened away an emotionless creature that until now, could not be stopped. Think of what you could do for Hogwarts...for Harry."

She wiped away her tears hastily and calmed herself. "Please Albus," she began, "take me to him."

He helped her to her feet, and they left her cold, dark cell unoccupied and even lonelier than before.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Reunited

The Hogwarts Express looked brilliant and beautiful as it always did, as if it hadn't aged a day. Life hadn't changed much since she'd been gone - people still sneered at her, still stared as if she were a leper. The only difference was that this time, they were decades younger than her.

As she took it all in, a familiar and friendly voice filled the air behind her. "It's an honor to be teaching beside you, Verona," it said. She turned in the direction of the voice to find an aged Remus Lupin, looking quite disheveled in an old tattered suit. "Really, it's been too long, my old friend."

She smiled warmly, though half-heartedly. "Remus. What a pleasure. Wonderful to see you. Share a seat with me?"

He picked up his paint-speckled briefcase and said, "Of course! It would be delightful to catch up. Shall we?"

She nodded. "Absolutely, just let me get my..." she stopped dead as she noticed someone staring at her. Someone that looked very familiar. "Remus," she began, her voice quivering, "is that..."

He turned around slowly. "...I believe that's Harry Potter," he said solemnly.

Verona's body swayed with dizziness, and she steadied herself against the train. "We should get a compartment. Before they fill up." She glanced at Remus sternly

He nodded knowingly. "I understand," he said.

After a few minutes in the compartment, sleep overtook Remus. As he slumbered, Verona stared out the window, consumed with thoughts of her Godson. _If only he knew,_ she thought to herself, _If only I could tell him. But how do you explain that to a mind so young, so unknowing?_

Her mind was ripped away from her thoughts at the sound of the compartment door sliding open. She whipped her head around to find a skinny girl with bushy brown hair and large teeth staring with wonder at her. She was clearly intimidated, so Verona gave her a slight smile. "May I help you?" She asked.

The girl swallowed and took a deep breath. "I was just wondering...if it isn't too much trouble..."

Verona took the stress off of the girl. "Please," she said, gesturing to the seat across the way, "sit down."

The girl uttered a meek "thank you," then nodded to someone in the aisle. As she sat down, a boy with bright red hair entered behind her, stumbling as he did.

Verona chuckled. "Please, whatever you've heard, I'm sure I..." she stopped mid-sentence. Behind the red-head entered none other than Harry Potter.

She stared, and he stared back, his green eyes like his mother's, penetrating her hard exterior. She caught herself and cleared her throat and looked away suddenly, realizing the mistake she had made. "Please, don't mind me. I'm not as frightening as I seem," she said.

There were many moments of silence in the compartment, filled with nervous twitching, throats clearing. The girl seemed too afraid to move. Finally, Verona spoke.

"Well, I suppose the four of us should get acquainted. My name is Verona Doringen, and if you haven't heard already, I'll be watching over Hogwarts this year. As a protector of sorts," she said to the unresponsive students. "And you three are?"

They all looked at each other tentatively, then finally, the red-headed boy spoke. "Name's Ron Weasley, Gryffindor house," he said, his hands fidgeting nervously.

Verona smiled encouragingly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ron," she held out her hand to shake his, and he jumped at her icy touch.

The girl, who seemed comforted by this, spoke next. "Hermione Granger, also of Gryffindor," she said with an outstretched hand, which Verona took as well, smiling.

Verona shifted her gaze to Harry, who was still staring with his brilliant green eyes. "And who might you be?" She asked, her smile fading as she buried her feelings away.

Harry looked perplexed, then at ease as if the prospect of being unrecognized was a relief. "Harry Potter," he said, "Gryffindor."

Verona smiled warmly, shaking his hand firmly. "Of course, how could I be so stupid. It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter." Her eyes drifted up to his forehead, taking in the burn, the scar he wore as a reminder of that fateful night.

Harry gestured at Lupin. "Who's that?"

Verona chuckled a bit at the deepness of his nap. "Professor Remus Lupin. He's a very dear friend of mine. Filling the Defense Against the Dark Arts position this year."

The three students shifted nervously at the intentness of her gaze. Verona looked up, again realizing her mistake. She folded her hands and slouched back in her seat. "Well," she said, "you must be looking forward to the coming-"

"You don't look much older than me," said Ron, cutting her off mid-sentence. "What exactly...ARE you?"

Verona turned her head sharply towards him. She swallowed hard, trying to hide her annoyance at his ignorance.

Hermione slapped him playfully on the arm when she realized his question was unwelcome. "Ronald!" she said, a nervous smile spreading across her face.

Verona did not break her gaze with him, then sighed. "I'm not human, if that's what you're asking. Far from it actually."

"Then what are you?" Asked Harry, not impolitely.

She turned toward him. "Vampire. Don't let my youthful exterior fool you - I turned 64 last week."

Hermione nodded, Ron looked astonished, Harry indifferent. A silence fell over the four of them, the soft snoring of Lupin the only sound. Verona fumbled for words to fill the air. She was unnerved by the boy, alarmingly so. She wanted to tell him everything, but it was impossible. Anything she told him now would simply overwhelm him, especially coming from someone as seemingly un-trustworthy as Verona. All three students stared down at her forearm, at the burn that was half-protruding from underneath her sweater. She yanked her sleeve down quickly and kept her hand over the burnt skin - she didn't want to alienate them more than she already had.

After what seemed like forever, Harry spoke. "So you're here to stop Sirius Black? Is that it?" He asked, his green eyes gleaming hopefully.

Although she knew the truth about the Potters, about Sirius's innocence, she didn't want to disturb the boy. "Yes," she said, "and to make sure the dementors stay in line. Not that they won't, but you never know what a creature like that is capable of if you get in its way."

All three students shuddered. Ron spoke. "So you're just here to do-"

His words were cut off by the sudden lurch of the train. They were coming to a complete stop in the middle of the tracks. The lights in the compartment flickered, then died, as did the ones in the aisle. A frost spread itself over the windows, and the four were now exhaling tiny puffs of clouds.

Verona didn't need an explanation for what was happening. She leapt to the door and locked it tight, then rounded on the students. "Don't make noise and don't move," she said, shoving them into the corner of the compartment, "and understand, that whatever happens, you don't have to be afraid of them."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Them?" He asked. "Who's them?"

As if on cue, a dark shape came into view on the other side of the glass. Slowly, a corroded and rotting finger curled and uncurled, unlocking the compartment door. The hand that owned the finger wrapped around the door and slid it open slowly. A dementor stood in the compartment, its rattling breath draining the room of happiness.

"You have no business being here. You know damn well he's not in here." Verona fanned her wings out to protect the children, especially Harry, who was sinking into unconsciousness. A panicked voice cried out behind her. "Verona, do something!" It was Hermione, pointing at the writhing Harry, who's eyes had rolled backwards and who was going into somewhat of a seizure.

Verona lost control for a moment and spun around, not sure what to do to stop his agony. Just as she was losing her mind, a clammy and rotted hand reached over her shoulder and towards Harry. Instantly, she snapped back to reality. She had taken an oath to protect this child, and she was going to fulfill that oath no matter what. She grabbed the hand and forearm of the thing, and with all her might, snapped it in two with a sickening crack.

The dementor made no sound, but stumbled backwards a bit. It was angrier than before, but so was Verona. She placed two hands upon its chest and pushed with all her might, then yelled to the children, "Cover your ears!"

When she was sure it was safe, she let out a high-pitched and inhuman scream, this time shattering the glass from the door and window.

The thing knew it was beaten. It quickly and silently made its way down the hall, taking its air of despair with it.

There was another long pause as Verona caught her breath. When she could finally turn around, Ron and Hermione were staring in amazement, and Lupin, who had finally come out of his coma, was smiling broadly.

Verona sighed and smoothed her hair back, looking down at the sleeping Harry. "Remus," she said, "chocolate."

He produced a bar from his jacket pocket, holding it out to the two students. "I'm way ahead of you, Verona."

Just then, Harry moaned and twitched, opening his eyes slowly and trying to sit up, but failing. Verona steadied him. "Don't get too ambitious. You went through quite an ordeal just now."

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and laid a hand on his throbbing temple. "What was that...thing?" He asked, staring at her. For a split second, Verona could see that tiny infant from all those years ago staring up at her, and she froze, but caught herself. Now was not the time.

"It was a dementor," said Remus, noticing her silence. "One of the guards of Azkaban. Here, eat this," he said, handing him the chocolate, "it will help."

Harry looked around the room as Verona stared out the broken compartment door, .checking for any more intruders. He could feel his eyes on her as he said, "Did anyone else...you know...faint?"

Both students shook their heads in reverence, explaining their feelings of despair. When Verona turned around, she could tell Harry felt like an outsider for being so affected. "There's no shame in what happened, Harry," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Dementors feed on happy memories, unhappy memories, and you've had your share of both." She stared at them blankly. "Take it from someone who knows," she continued, "dementors are the most disgusting and horrifying creatures to walk this earth. There's a reason they've been banished to guard Azkaban."

Harry stared at her, his eyes burrowing into her soul. "There's something else," he began. "I heard screaming. A woman screaming my name," a chill went up Verona's spine, "and I saw something too. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw an angel cradling a baby in a dimly lit room. And a pale white demon in the corner. She was sending it away."

At this, Ron started laughing. "Crazy dream, mate," he said, "I wouldn't read into it too far."

Verona did not laugh, but choked back her tears. She stared at the rigid and astonished Lupin, who was trying his best to hide his feelings as she did. Finally, with a sad smile, she said, "Just another after-effect of the ordeal." She swallowed hard. "You should get some rest, listen to what Professor Lupin tells you. I am going to make sure that this never happens again." With that, she left the compartment. The moment she was sure no one could see her, she burst into tears.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Baggage

The next few years were busy ones. Busy and quite dangerous. In Harry's third year, they had attempted, and unfortunately failed, to clear Sirius Black's name. When Harry had found out that Verona was his legal guardian, he was ecstatic, and had wanted to make a home with her and Sirius. Unfortunately, the law didn't allow him to live with either of them - Sirius became a fugitive and Verona had lost guardianship all those years ago. In the fourth year, the Tri-Wizard Tournament had come to Hogwarts. A death-eater masquerading as Mad Eye Moody had put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire, and as a result, he was chosen to compete in the tournament. Coinciding with the tournament was the return of Lord Voldemort. He had acquired a new body and was again wreaking havoc on the wizarding world.

With the return of Voldemort came the return of Verona's headaches. She could feel him getting stronger all the time, feel his joy, feel his anger. She even had visions sometimes - all the time when she was wearing his ring.

The most vivid and odd of all of these visions occurred when she was sleeping one night. She was sitting in a garden in her old school uniform. It was snowing, but she wasn't cold - quite the contrary, actually. The snow made it impossible to see farther than a few feet, even though it fell lightly and evenly around her feet. Suddenly, a figure crept slowly through the white out. She squinted, and a warm feeling spread through her - it was Tom, looking as handsome as ever in his uniform. She did not feel angry, as she thought she would, but comforted and loved. He smiled warmly, and she smiled back as he took her hands in his. Gently, he kissed her...

Verona pulled away suddenly as realization hit her. "Wait," she said, her eyes narrowing, "this isn't real. And you're -"

"I'm as I once was. Don't you see, Verona? It could be like this," he said hopefully, reaching for her.

She backed away, shaking her head. "No, Tom, it can't. It doesn't matter what you do now, you are what you are. A murderer."

"Someday you'll see it my way, Verona," as he spoke, his voice acquired a ping, his facial features became snake-like, his eyes turned a deep shade of red. "Until then, you're left only with the ashen dead."

He pointed at her shoulder, which had collected quite a bit of snow. She stared down at it, and brushed it off, but instead of melting into her sweater, it smeared and stained it. The falling snow wasn't snow at all, but ashes - ashes of those he had killed, her friends, her family.

She let out a yelp and desperately shook herself off, looking for cover anywhere she could find it. Voldemort laughed cruelly, his sick joy ringing in her ears even as she awoke, sweating and panting in her bed.

In the end, she came to the conclusion that what she had experienced wasn't just a dream - Voldemort was actually speaking to her.

Verona told no one of the visions, not even her most trusted friends, members of the Order of the Phoenix. She was desperately afraid that they would disown her, or worse, ask her to do something she knew she wasn't capable of.

Although she felt like a loner, she couldn't help but feel comforted by Maxim Callemy, another vampire that had joined the Order. He was years older than her, but quite handsome - his dark curly hair hung just above his steely grey eyes, and his sharp facial features would make any woman pine. He had taken quite a liking to her, and she to him, but she dare not show her feelings to him, to anyone, not even to herself. She was deathly afraid of what Voldemort might do, not to her, but to Maxim. There was no question in her mind that he wouldn't hesitate to kill him. And even now, in her heart, she knew some part of her would never stop loving Tom Riddle.

By the by, Maxim's attempts at winning her over were quite valiant. He placed flowers and blood flavored lollipops in her coat pockets. He offered an embrace when she was exhausted from her visions the night before. He stroked her hand when things went wrong. He was perfect, did everything right, and she went out of her way to pull away from him and ignore him.

One day, as Verona was leaving the Order's headquarters, Maxim caught her by the hand. "Verona," he said, smiling invitingly, his eyes hopeful, "you dropped this on your way out." In his outstretched hand was Tom's ring, gleaming in the moonlight. "I noticed you wear it all the time, and I didn't want you to be missing it."

She snatched it from his hand hastily, shoving it deep into her coat pocket. "Thank you, Maxim. That was very kind of you." She turned to leave, her pace quickening, but he wasn't satisfied.

"Wait...Verona, please!" He shouted after her. She turned, her eyes penetrating his soul. "You must know how I feel about you. I feel like a fool...I've done everything right and still you ignore me. What do I have to do to get you to notice me?"

Verona sighed, desperately avoiding his eyes. "Maxim, this isn't the time or the place. We're in the middle of a total collapse into chaos. You can't expect me to-"

"I'm not asking for much. Just a chance. If that means I have to wait until all of this is over, so be it."

There was a moment of silence between them. A light snow started falling, reminding her of her encounter with Voldemort, snapping her back into reality.

She shook her head. "Maxim, I don't expect you to understand, but I can't. What I am...what I've done...it's baggage you're not prepared to handle. Please, don't make this harder than it already is."

His face brightened a little at that, and he chuckled. "This is hard? So does that mean I have a shot?"

Her face remained grave, her eyes narrowed. "Just leave me alone. It will be better for the both of us."

With that, she spread her wings and started home.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Stab of Jealousy

Verona and Maxim continued to admire each other from afar, avoiding each other's glances, shivering as their skin brushed in a chance encounter. Her words had wounded him, yes, but he loved her, and he wasn't willing to give up so easily.

In mid-February, the Order received a tip that Voldemort was planning to break into the Department of Mysteries and steal a prophecy, the very prophecy Verona had heard Sybill Trelawney give all those years ago. It was prudent that the Order reached the prophecy before he did, as it contained important information about the "chosen one" - Harry Potter, her godson.

As they were preparing to leave, Verona was stricken by a terrible and incapacitating headache. She stared down at the ring on her finger - it was weighing her down, making her temple throb, the screams of the living dead. She was sure he was anxious - why else would it act up like this? She sat down to keep from falling over, from vomiting. There was no way she could fight like this, especially if he was breathing down her neck.

Maxim bent down to speak to her, but she couldn't hear his words. The world went in slow motion. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, her vision clouding in and out. Slowly, she reached over and slid the ring off her finger, dropping it on the ground beneath her. Instantly, the sharp pain in her temple ceased, the sick feeling was suppressed, and Maxim was speaking audible English. In a strange show of affection, she gently laid a hand on his cheek. "I'm fine. Don't worry, please," she said with a smile.

When they reached the Department of Mysteries, it was clear there had already been trouble. The lock on the door had been broken, and several prophecies inside had been blown to bits.

"It looks like we might be too late," said Sirius, pocketing his wand. "Only thing left to do now is-"

"Shh!" Squeaked Verona and Maxim together, rounding on him. In the distance, too soft for human ears, were the sounds of shouts and hurried footsteps.

"Quickly!" Yelled Verona, taking off in a sprint towards the sound of the culprits.

They ran for what seemed like days through the dark aisles of the Department, when finally, they came up on Voldemort and a cluster of Death Eaters surrounding what appeared to be a frightened group of students, Harry, Ron, and Hermione among them.

"_Expelliarmus!_" cried Voldemort, sending Harry's wand flying. Harry, ever the brave, spread his arms as if to protect the others, fanning them out around him, as Voldemort raised his wand a second time. "_Avada -"_

Verona did not hesitate. In a nimble display, she leapt over the Death Eaters and knocked Harry out of the way, sliding him across the marble floor to one side. There was a pause as she rolled her shoulder back to stare at Voldemort. "You will not touch this boy!" She screamed, her eyes a bright yellow, her teeth bared.

Voldemort froze for a moment, his cold eyes softening. "Verona..." he stammered. Her eyes narrowed as she helped Harry to his feet. "Tom," she said defiantly.

There was a gasp from every living being in the room - no one had dared to call Lord Voldemort "Tom", not even his most loyal of subjects. She took Harry by the hand and ploughed through the nearest Death Eaters, motioning for the other students to follow suit. As they broke into a run, half of the Order cast curses at their assailants, the other half following Verona to cover her, Maxim included.

As they ran, Harry turned to her. "You called him Tom..." he said between pants. Maxim stared her way as well, every bit as curious as Harry. She stared back, but said nothing of this. Instead, she asked, "Do you have the prophecy?"

Harry nodded, taking it from his pocket.

"Good," she said, "the exit isn't too far from-"

A curse flew past her head, and she skidded to a halt. Ten Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange among them, had headed them off at the end of the aisle.

Verona was so surprised she didn't even see the curse come at her. "_Crucio!"_" Bella screamed, landing it square in her chest.

Instantly, Verona was knocked backwards, her insides wrenching around in terrible pain. The Order immediately countered with curses of their own, but for the moment, she was incapacitated. She let out a scream and a final wretch, then recovered, panting on the floor on her hands and knees. Maxim was at her side as the action moved, thankfully for the moment, to another area of the Department. "Are you alright?" he asked, grasping her hand to help her up. She nodded, and he brushed the blood from her brow tenderly.

Just as they were turning to run, Verona saw a cold, tall presence in the corner of her eye. She turned to face it and grasped Maxim's hand as she did, only to change his focus. There, standing in the aisle, was Voldemort, his eyes blazing. "So, Verona, that's the way it is then?" He said in a horrifyingly calm manor, glancing down at their clutched hands, at the hand that no longer wore his ring.

For once in her life, she was terrified of him. She dropped her hand to her side and took a deep breath. "Maxim, RUN!" she screamed, but he did not budge.

In a lapse of judgment, she attempted to reason with Voldemort, who was coming towards them menacingly. "Please...Tom..."

Immediately, his hands were around her neck, his strength incredible. "I'm giving you a choice, Verona. Me or him. He lives or he dies."

Her eyes watered from the pressure. "Maxim..." she squeaked out, "please run. Please!"

"No Verona, I'm not going to -"

"Just do it!"

He took a last longing look at them, then tore off down the aisle. Instantly, Voldemort dropped her on the ground, choking and coughing, and sent curse after curse Maxim's way. When she finally recovered, she ran after him desperately, as Voldemort raised his wand and screamed, "_Crucio!"_

There was no way Maxim could avoid this, and if he didn't, Voldemort would surely kill him. She leapt at him, pushing him out of the way, and the curse hit her instead.

The same white-hot surge of pain she felt minutes earlier coursed its way through her veins again, only this time, it was much stronger. When it finally ended, she could do nothing but lay on the ground, sweating and panting. She was sore, felt as if she had had a heart attack. Maxim knelt at her side, and she placed her hand on his cheek. "Please go," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks, "please! You know you can't fight him alone!"

"...I'll get help," he panted. "I love you, Verona." He sprinted down the aisle as she lay there, her limbs slack, perhaps waiting for her death.

Voldemort threw one last curse at him, and it missed, instead hitting a shelf of prophecies, which buckled under the force of it. It tumbled down on Maxim, glass shattering, crushing him, killing him.

"MAXIM!" cried Verona, her arm reaching out for his unmoving body. She coughed out a pathetic "No..." as Voldemort inched closer to her, hovered over her, his cackle ringing in her ears.

He bent down and scooped her up in a cradle carry, and she squirmed, though not enough to matter much.

"Well Verona, I would think the choice is obvious now," he said, a sick and twisted smile spread across his face.

A tiny flame of rage burnt inside of her, even through her weakness, and she spat blood in his face. This defiance made him laugh even harder, and her tears flow even faster.

He carried her down the aisles, past the crumpled body and into the entrance foyer, where an infuriated looking Harry was doing battle with Bellatrix. "_Crucio!_" He screamed nervously, unsure of what he was doing. It was clear he'd never preformed the curse before. Bellatrix fell to the ground, panting for a short moment. She laughed cruelly at his attempt, then said, "It's no wonder your godfather fell so easily, with pathetic attempts at magic like that!"

"Shut up!" He screamed, raising his wand again. Voldemort laughed, high-pitched and coldly from behind them, still carrying Verona with him. "No no, you're doing it all wrong. You have to WANT to hurt someone. Go on, teach her a lesson." He laid the delirious and exhausted Verona at his feet, and she let out a sputter. "Come on Harry, show your godmother what you can do! She'll be so proud!"

Harry's eyes widened at the sudden prospect of losing two godparents in one night. He stared down at her, realizing he was playing a game he couldn't win. Voldemort laughed again. "That's everyone's problem around here, controlling their vengeance. How about I give you another shot?" He placed his booted foot on Verona's throat threateningly. "Give me the prophecy, or I'll kill the only family you've got."

Verona, gaining the tiniest bit of strength, struggled under the weight. "Don't listen to him, Harry! Save the prophecy! Save yourself!"

Harry reached slowly into his pocket and grabbed something, then drew it out.

"NO! He's a liar!" screamed Verona.

Suddenly, a flash of light zipped past Voldemort's face, illuminating the foyer and knocking Harry to the ground. All eyes turned to Albus Dumbledore, who had cast the spell his way, challenging him. "Now Tom," he said calmly, "is that really any way to treat the woman you love?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he took a disgusted look at the bloodied and haggard Verona, then back at Dumbledore. "That's the second time tonight someone has called me Tom, and I assure you, it will be the last." He pointed his wand in Dumbledore's direction and started towards him, freeing Verona.

Bellatrix knew she was outnumbered and, after throwing Verona a look of hatred, scurried off and disappeared into the night. Verona crawled toward Harry and pulled him to the side and out of harm's way, then placed a protective arm around him. He struggled a bit, and she said, "No Harry. This duel is far beyond either of us."

Voldemort and Dumbledore began an epic duel, and a horrifying one at that. After what seemed like hours, reinforcements arrived - not just the Order of the Phoenix, but aurors from the Ministry of Magic, dozens of them. They surrounded the dueling wizards, wands at the ready.

Voldemort let out a cry of anger, then spun around and stared at Verona, stared through her. "I'll be seeing you soon," he said, smiling maliciously as Harry's grip tightened around her arm. There was a flash of red light, and he disappeared.

Immediately after the battle, Harry had been ripped from her arms and forced to speak to the press. It seemed wrong after he had lost his godfather, but who was she to argue with any of them?

At this point, Verona had the strength to stand. As she slowly got to her feet, Remus, looking tired and bloodied from battle, gave her the news that Sirius had been killed. She sighed sadly and shed a tear, then explained that Maxim had been killed as well.

Remus shook his head. "The Dark Lord's jealousy has consumed him. What happened? Killing curse?"

"No," she began, feeling numb and sick to her stomach. "He was running to get help for me, and a curse hit one of the shelves..."

Her voice trailed off as a light went off in her head. "How could I be so stupid?" She said to no one in particular. "Remus, help me.." She started off in the direction of Maxim's body as Remus helped her limp along.

As the ran, she thought of a story Tom had told her long ago about a vampire thousands of years old. _It was amazing how much abuse his body could take and still function normally..._

_There was no silver, nothing to create a wound,_ Verona thought to herself. _He may have been still, but he wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead._

When they reached the overturned shelf and the seemingly lifeless body beneath it, Remus quickly pulled out his wand and moved the wood and broken glass to one side. Verona knelt at Maxim's side, pressing an ear to his chest. A faint heartbeat.

"Come on, Maxim," she said to him. "Please don't leave me alone! I can't face him without you!"

Slowly, but surely, Maxim's steely eyes opened. "...Verona?" he asked, sputtering and coughing. "Did you save me?"

She let out a sob and cradled him in her arms. "Yeah," she said, tears streaming down her face. "Yeah, I think I did."

_"""_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

A Rush of Blood to the Head

Maxim lay in Verona's bed, his arm draped around her, his breath barely audible in his slumber. His skin, though freezing to any other being, was warm against her body, against her soul. Their bodies fit perfectly together, their fingers entwined as one. He was perfect - his kiss, his touch, the way he loved her. Everything was as it should be.

And yet she laid awake tonight, worrying about his life, worrying about what Voldemort might think, but most of all, worrying that her life with Maxim was missing something. She stared at her bedside table, at the ring that sat upon it. It looked so cold, so intimidating, so distant. And it was - her days with Tom were like a past life now, especially after that display at the Department of Mysteries. Just as she had explained to Maxim, to Harry, to everyone, she was once in love with a man named Tom Riddle. But she was sure that that man was dead now.

When she closed her eyes, she heard Voldemort's cold laughter ringing in her ears, saw the ashes of her loved ones all around her. She sat up in bed with a start, panting and wiping off the cold sweat on her brow.

Maxim sat up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her head into his chest to comfort her. "It's alright," he said, stroking her hair, "he can't hurt you. You're safe here."

"I'm not worried about me," she said, pulling him closer. "I'm worried about you." She stared up and met his eyes with hers.

He sighed and laid back with her in his arms, kissing her gently and closing his eyes. "There's nothing to worry about." He drifted off to sleep quickly, while Verona stared at him with glassy eyes, her mind restless for the duration of the night.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, an equally as restless and wide awake Voldemort was drinking, something he hadn't done in years, not since...not since...

_Not since the night I left Verona, _he thought to himself, finishing the glass with one swig. He stared at his reflection in the empty glass, hating what he saw. _If I didn't look like this, maybe she would still love me. _He set the glass down and pushed it away. There was so much to be done, and all he could do was think of her. For the first time in a long time, he felt a feeling of despair, despair that for once, he couldn't have what he wanted.

What he wanted - he felt her body in his arms, could smell her hair, could feel her soft lips as he brushed his fingers over them. He hadn't realized just how desperate he was to feel her touch until he saw her that night at the Department of Mysteries, her fingers wrapped around those of another man. He reached into his robes and drew out a folded piece of paper, the photograph she had given him all those years ago. She stared at him with a slight, warm smile, and he traced his finger across her cheek. He had lost his temper and hurt her, and was so ashamed of himself. He had hurt hundreds, perhaps thousands of people throughout his travels, and he had never felt anything, any remorse for what he had done. And to think he had told her once he would never hurt her.

He thought about her suitor - Maxim - of him and Verona together, in bed together as he had seen through her eyes, and suddenly, a flame of rage burnt inside of him. He wanted nothing but to hurt him, to torture him within an inch of his life. The thought of the feelings Maxim felt for her, stolen feelings from Voldemort's younger days, filled him with disgust. The pain he had inflicted on Verona should have been inflicted on Maxim...

And it would. He would feel everything she had felt, and more, so much more. By the time Voldemort was finished with him, he would wish for death, pray for it. No level of Hell contained anything that would compare to the kind of pain he would feel.

Verona had been in between consciousness and sleep when she felt Maxim's arm tighten around her waist. Her eyelids jerked open and she examined him. His breathing quickened a bit, then returned to normal; his features, bathed in moonlight, showed a slight hint of madness, then relaxed. He looked normal enough. Perhaps just a dream. Just as she was closing her eyes again, his arm tightened again, this time in a violent jerking movement. She pulled away from him and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. It must be quite a dream, one she couldn't sleep through herself. She stood up and sleepily made her way to the bathroom and turned on the light inside. She took a blood filled capsule and washed her hands in warm water, her routine for sleepless nights, then turned off the light and left the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She slid her feet back into the bedroom, yawning as she did so. When she looked up at the bed, she jumped a little - Maxim was standing on the other side of the bed, motionless, staring at her with glassy eyes.

She laughed a bit to cover up being frightened. "Christ Maxim, you scared me. Were you having a nightmare?" she asked.

He said nothing, did not move a muscle.

She moved a bit closer, but kept alert. "Maxim? Are you alright?"

Still, nothing.

"Maxim, you're starting to scare - "

Verona's words were cut off as he let out a scream, knocking her flat. It rang out through her tiny flat, echoing in her ears as Voldemort's laugh did. It sounded as if thousands of demons were making this sound, with ear-splitting high pitches and low pitches alike. It rang out for an incredible amount of time, cracking the glass window behind the bed.

After what seemed like forever, he fell to the ground and convulsed with pain. "VERONA!" he screamed, "HELP ME! HE HAS A SILVER DAGGER!"

She ran to his side and held him steady, her hands shaking out of sheer terror. His eyes rolled back in his head as he grabbed at his torso, grabbing at imaginary stab wounds. "Maxim, you have to fight! It isn't real!" She lifted his head up as if he could hear her better if she did so. "It's just a lie! Fight him!" He shook so violently that various knick-knacks on tables and shelves fell and shattered. "Come on Maxim! I'm here, I'm what's real! Don't listen to him!"

He grabbed her hands tightly, crushing them, and for a moment, the shaking stopped. "Verona, can't you see? I'm doing this for us." The shaking began again as she realized that Voldemort was speaking to her through Maxim.

"Please Tom, don't take out my mistake on him! Don't do this to me! PLEASE!"

As quickly as it had started, the seizure stopped. Maxim sat up with a start, gasping for air, his eyes returning to normal. He panted and wheezed, doubled over as he coughed. When he had finally recovered, he turned and embraced her. They stayed like that for a while as she stroked his hair, comforting him.

"Maxim, we can't do this every night," she whispered. "Next time he won't hesitate to kill you. I don't know why he didn't do it tonight."

He pulled away from her and stared. "What are you saying?"

She looked away from him. "I don't know..." She stood up and paced around the room, finally sitting on the bed facing the wall. "I don't think we can do this anymore. He'll kill you. He doesn't even have to be here, and he'll kill you." She put her face in her hands and smoothed her hair back. "You have to leave. Tonight."

He jumped up and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. "Verona, please. I want nothing more than to be here with you. So he caused a nightmare, so what? He can't hurt me."

She pulled her hands away and looked him in the eye sternly. "He's a powerful man. You know he can do it."

There was a pause between them. She stood up and crept toward the window, staring out blankly at the dark abyss that lay behind it. She started to cry. What a mess she had brought upon him, upon herself, upon the Potters, upon everyone. If she had only known all those years ago on the train, she would have spat in his face. What a fool she had been.

He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her tenderly. "Please let me stay," he said.

Verona broke free of him and rushed around the room, picking up all his things, throwing them in a pile in the center of the room. "You don't understand Maxim," she said through her tears, "jealous ex-boyfriend doesn't even begin to cover it. He's _insane_ with jealousy. If I didn't know any better, I might say he thinks about it more than he thinks about anything else. He hates you. HATES YOU. How many people that Tom Riddle ever hated have made it out alive?"

He caught her shoulders and spun her around, taking her face in his hands. "Verona, I love you. There's nothing he can do to change that. You deserve someone to help you through this. Please, let it be me."

She took his hands and dropped them to his sides. "What else has to happen before you see? This isn't some kind of joke, Maxim. This is real life. Perhaps next time he can come here himself and stab you for real, hmm? That would be some joke."

"We'll go somewhere, somewhere he can't find us!" He took her hands again and kissed her passionately. "We'll get a secret keeper, he'll never be able to hurt us!"

She pulled away from him. "It doesn't matter Maxim! He'll find us wherever we go, thanks to me," she stared down at her forearm, "thanks to THIS. Jesus Christ, he's a genius at occlumency, he doesn't need to know where we are, he doesn't even need to know our secret keeper. Tom was gifted at tricks of the mind even when he -"

"Stop calling him that!" screamed Maxim. "He's not Tom Riddle anymore, he's Lord Voldemort! How many people does he have to kill before you get that through your damn head? I don't know what happened in that lifetime, but that was then, this is now. He's a murdering psychopath, and nothing, not some stupid ring, not the 'love' in his non-existent heart - NOTHING is going to change that, so stop acting like a school girl and come down to earth!"

Verona rounded on him, landing a cold, hard slap to his face. "How dare you? You have no idea what it was like, what it's like now, to see someone you thought you knew, someone you loved do that kind of about-face! Someone that used to make love to you threaten to kill you, someone that used to hold you, comfort you, haunt your very dreams!" She turned away from his hurt face, taking more of his belongings to the pathetic-looking center pile. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter what you think. You're leaving, and that's that." She rounded up the pile in her arms, opened the door to her flat, and threw them outside. "So get out."

He sighed, his eyes filled with sadness. "Alright Verona, you win." He slowly crossed the floor, stopping just before he crossed the threshold, stopping in front of her. "But I can tell you, I love you more than anything, anyone I've ever met before. And I certainly love you more than him. I just wish you could see that." He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away. He froze, and instead kissed her cheek.

When he got into the hallway, she slammed the door in his face.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

A Glimmer of Light

"Harry, you have been blinded by your own hate! Do you have any idea what kind of accusation you're making?"

"I know what I saw, and I'm telling you, he's planning something, and for whatever reason, he's using Draco Malfoy to help him."

"My God, you just won't stop, will you? You're as stubborn as your father. Verona, talk some sense into your godson!"

Remus Lupin broke the happiness of the holiday air with his words, cutting though it like a knife. He stared at Verona with coaxing eyes, wanting her to tell him what he wanted to hear, what he wanted Harry to hear. Harry shot a hopeful look at her, wanting nothing more than to be believed. She took a deep breath and exhaled, running her hand through her hair.

"This IS a very serious accusation. I'm willing to believe you Harry, but I can't go on blind faith alone."

Harry scoffed, standing up and throwing his hands in the air. "You're my godmother! You're supposed to believe me!"

She laughed sarcastically. "Where is the contract? Did I sign something at some point?" She ran a hand across her brow, then turned to Remus. "Is there some kind of alcoholic beverage I can ingest safely?"

"Maybe you should just ask Voldemort yourself, you two seem to be so close!" Harry screamed, stomping out of the room.

"Maybe I will, he's throwing a fabulous Christmas party," she called after him indifferently. "Hormones," she said to Remus, rolling her eyes. She paced around the room, sighing. "Maybe we should put a tail on the Malfoy family? Just in case the kid's on to something."

Remus shrugged. "What difference would it make? That family's so well connected that they've covered up their trail before they've even made one." He took a drink of his scotch, set it down, then stared at Verona. "Is there something wrong? You seem...distant. I mean, you've been so supportive of Harry in the past, why doubt him now?"

Verona stiffened. "Nothing. I mean...no, nothing. I guess I'm just tired. This conflict's taken so much out of me."

He nodded, then cleared his throat nervously. "You know...Maxim told me what happened."

She stared into space, into nowhere. "Fantastic," she said without emotion.

"Verona, you can't just keep putting up this wall around your heart. You've hid your emotions for so long, it's almost like you've forgotten what they're like - "

"My heart died a long time ago, Remus. There's no longer any need for emotions."

He sighed, taking another sip of his drink. "Alright, I know I'm no one to argue with you," he stood up and began making his way out of the room. Just as he reached the edge, he turned to her. "I know what happened to you, Verona. You loved him very much, and because of that, the world turned on you, you lost everything, your friends, your godson, everything. You even lost part of yourself. You rotted in Azkaban for over a decade. It was monstrous, all of it. But there's a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. You just haven't realized it yet."

With that, he left her with his words and her inner turmoil.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Closure

Verona sat staring at the wall in her flat, trying desperately to stay awake. This was the third night she'd gone without sleep, as her visions and nightmares had once again become more vivid and disturbing. What was more, she had found out, by accident, where Maxim was living - there was no doubt that Voldemort could read her mind and find him.

She had finally told Remus about the reason for her insomnia, and as a courtesy, he had volunteered to stay with her a few nights a week and keep her awake. He sat across from her, eyes heavy, hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. Both were fumbling for conversation, but had run out of topics for discussion long ago.

Verona cleared her throat. "Do you think...things would have been much different if I'd never met him?"

He sighed. "I think things would have been worlds different. If nothing else, he'd be even crueller than he already is, if that's possible. You seem to keep him stuck with his humanity," there was a long pause, "but there's no use dwelling on it now. It is what it is." He took a sip of his coffee. "By the way Verona," he said, setting the mug on the floor, "I know it's not my place to ask, but where's the ring? I haven't seen you wear it lately."

She stared down at her finger for a moment, at the indentation where it used to reside. "I gave it to Dumbledore a few months ago. I finally realized that it wasn't doing anyone any good, least of all me. Still having these damned visions though."

He smiled at her encouragingly. "It's a start. Maybe the ring will help Dumbledore find him. Maybe it will do some good after all."

She smiled back and started to say something, but her words were stifled by a knock at the door.

"Expecting visitors? It's almost dawn," said Remus, a puzzled look on his face. She shrugged, and made her way to the door.

When she opened it, a wiry looking young woman with oddly colored hair and an upturned nose was standing on the other side. She had tears in her eyes, and was panting desperately to keep them back.

"Tonks," said Verona, "is something wrong?"

"Albus Dumbledore...he's dead." She broke down into a sob.

Time stopped for a moment as Verona sputtered and steadied herself on the door frame. Remus stood up quickly, rushing towards the door to aid the broken Tonks, who was in a heap on the floor.

As Verona stared at the floor to avoid eye contact with either of her friends, she caught sight of the mark on her forearm - it was pulsing and burnt brightly like new.

Albus Dumbledore's funeral was attended by hundreds and hundreds of people. There were barely enough chairs to contain the audience, hardly enough tissues to catch their tears. The kind words spoken and eulogies given were like white noise to Verona - nothing could make this better. Without Albus, they didn't stand a chance against Voldemort. She felt a feeling of despair spread over her like molasses, slowly suffocating her.

When the service was over, she caught sight of Harry, looking totally despondent, totally numb, sitting in a corner by himself. She closed the gap between them, pushing what felt like thousands of people out of her way. She stopped in front of him, realizing all too late that she hadn't thought of anything to say, and that their last encounter hadn't been the most pleasant - in fact, if she'd listened to him, Dumbledore would still be alive.

"Are you alright?" she asked, berating herself for asking something with such an obvious answer.

He stared up at her without emotion. "No," he said, "but I'm doing better." He stared back down at the ground.

She nodded, then turned to leave.

"Wait," he said, standing suddenly. She turned to face him, and he took a deep breath. "Before he died, Dumbledore told me everything about you and Voldemort, from the time you met, to the night my parents died."

She sighed, her eyes welling with tears. "I'm sorry Harry. I should have told you. I hope someday you can forgive me. You deserved...deserve a better godmother."

He shook his head. "No, Verona. At first I was upset, but I want you to know...I understand. And as for having a better godparent...I couldn't have been any luckier than having you. You could have handed me over to him, but you didn't. And when I was orphaned, you took me in, and when they thought you an unfit guardian, they dragged you off to Azkaban for 12 years. For me. But most of all, you chose me over him. And that is worth everything." He threw his arms around her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like her life had been worth something.

When most of the guests had cleared out, Verona sat on a bench overlooking Dumbledore's headstone, alone, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. She felt a sudden presence behind her, but didn't move to see its owner. "Please, let me be for a moment," she said with as much composure as she could muster. The presence did not leave, but instead sat down beside her and took her hand gently.

She turned her head to see Maxim, his sad gray eyes fixed on hers. She leaned into him, her head resting on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. She did not feel weak, did not worry about what Voldemort thought - right now, there was only her and Maxim, only the warm feeling of comfort he brought her. She realized in that moment how alone she felt, how alone she had been. The world had loved her all along, but she was too blind to see it.

After a long time, she sat up, taking his face in her hands. "I don't want to be alone anymore," she said through her sobs.

He wiped her tears away tenderly. "You don't have to be," he said.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Desperation

It was happening again.

Verona cradled Maxim's head in her arms, rocking him back and forth, trying desperately to calm him down. Almost every night since they had reunited, he had had visions, horrible nightmares of Voldemort that became increasingly worse as time went on. She wiped the sweat from his brow and he lashed out at her, drawing blood from her cheek. The wound immediately turned to ash and healed, but it irritated her nonetheless. And then, just as soon as it had begun, the terror ended.

Maxim sat up with a start, panting in a cold sweat. "Are you alright?" asked Verona, standing to retrieve a cold rag from the sink.

"I'm fine," he replied, "just like always."

She knelt at his side and dabbed his forehead. "I hope you're happy with all of this," she said, not impolitely.

He took the healing hand in his and smiled weakly. "I am," he said, and kissed her.

"Come on," she said, helping him to his feet and back into bed. "I'll help you stay awake."

Verona and Maxim burst through the door of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, locking the door tightly behind them. They were late for quite an important meeting - they had to transport Harry to Hogwarts safely, which was near impossible in the current situation - and they had over slept, eyes still bloodshot from a lack of sleep that had accumulated over the past months.

There was already a gathering around Harry's trunk and owl of members of the Order, members that did not look happy to see them come late.

"Look who decided to show up," mumbled one to another. Verona shot him an angry glance. Harry smiled at her, waving slightly, and she smiled back.

"Well, I'm here," she said, "what's the plan?" She sat down, Maxim taking a seat beside her.

Remus gestured to a large cauldron that was brewing a green, viscous liquid. "Since the Death Eaters are stopping at nothing to capture Harry, we thought we'd give him to them. The only catch is, they have to figure out which one of us is the real Harry."

Maxim smiled mischeviously. "Polyjuice potion! Always very classy."

Remus nodded with a slight smile, pouring the disgusting stuff into vials for everyone to take. "Maxim, Verona, since you two can't drink this, you'll have to split up and flank our two groups for added protection. Verona, I suggest you take the group without the real Harry, that will make it less obvious."

She stiffened a little at the suggestion, but realized his point. Remus began handing out the vials, and one by one, the Order was turned into 14 Harry Potters.

Verona made a run for the real Harry and embraced him. "Be careful," she said, "I can only do so much, I'm afraid."

"I know, Verona. You won't have to worry about me," he said.

She pulled away from him and laid a hand on his cheek. "But I always do. That's my job." She smiled at him, then said, "It's time we left. I'd like to get this over with." She stood up and lead him outside with the rest of the Order.

As the groups were taking off, she turned to Maxim. "Don't let anything happen to him," she said, gazing into his eyes. "Don't let anything happen to you." She kissed him, then turned to spread her wings and leave.

They had only been flying for five minutes or less when they came. There were six or seven of them, throwing curses into the center of the group. Verona turned her head to see Fenrir Greyback barreling towards her on his broom, his teeth bared, his ugly face curled into a snarl. She dove down to avoid him, feet below the clouds, drawing her wand and throwing a curse at him. She missed, and it flew into the air like a flare. He slammed into her, his broom following him in mid-air. They scratched, bit, punched and kicked each other, free-falling, then rising again, free-falling, then rising. Verona rolled to the side to avoid him and he fell, finally landing on his broomstick, which had been circling them closely. Meanwhile, she rocketed up to help the "Harry's", curses flying left and right, narrowly missing her head.

In the middle of the fray, Verona cleared her mind enough to realize that Harry was in trouble. She did a spectacular flip in the air, circling around towards the other group of Order members. As she flew, two Death Eaters came after her, wands pointed at her from the side. She dodged curses left and right, but they kept up, closing in on her from each side. Desperately, she elbowed one in the face, and he fell from his broom, tumbling hundreds of feet to his death. The other pulled a sliver dagger from his robes and struck out at her, narrowly missing her chest. He struck again and dragged the blade across her cheek, scarring the porcelain-like flesh.

Verona fell a few feet and clutched her cheek, then stared down at the blood that stained her hand. She was infuriated.

She hurried after the Death Eater as he sped away toward the second group, which was now coming into view. Just as he was drawing his wand, she caught him and carried him off his broom, sinking her teeth into his jugular in mid-air. She drained him and dropped him, and he plummeted downwards, landing below with a sickening crunch.

She wiped her mouth off and hurried toward the group as three more Death Eaters sped past her. She screamed, "MAXIM! LOOK OUT!"

He immediately looked up and, reacting to the coming horde, rounded up the group and spread his wings in front of them as a hooded mongrel slammed into him, crumbling against his steel-like chest and falling a good few feet. The rest pulled upwards, trying to find a weak spot in Maxim's defenses. Verona sped over to them, flanking the other side and brushing them off with her massive wings.

Curses flew past their heads for what felt like hours as Death Eater after Death Eater either fell back or fell to their deaths. When they finally landed, they were winded, wounded, and exhausted. Verona wiped the blood from her cheek, only to feel it pool again - there would be a scar, there was no doubt. As the rest of the Order transformed back into their own skin, she rushed over to Harry, who was doubled over on the ground, and Maxim, who laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Verona crouched down to Harry's level, taking his face in her hands. "Are you alright?" She asked, checking the sides of his head for wounds or abnormalities.

He looked up at her sullenly, then pointed to a demolished golden owl cage where a small, crumpled white body lay pathetically. "My owl's been killed," he said, shaking his head slowly.

Suddenly, he lost control, slamming his fist on the ground. "Where does it end?" He screamed to no one in particular. "My owl? MY OWL?" He stood up quickly, then realized his mistake as he reeled, dizzy from the flight. He steadied and calmed himself, finally focusing on Verona's bloody cheek. "What happened there?" He asked, pointing. "Why hasn't that healed?"

Maxim turned to see the line of blood that divided her face, and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. He dabbed it lovingly, his gray eyes steely and sad. "Only one thing could have done this," he said, turning to Harry, "silver dagger. It's the only thing that can do permanent damage to the supernatural."

He turned to dab at her again, but she pushed his hand away. "He's obviously not playing around anymore, Maxim," she said, running a hand through her hair. "Not that he was before. But he put that servant up to it. He must have. No one would have been crazy enough to try that without a little influence from Tom Riddle."

Maxim crumbled the handkerchief in his hand as Harry peered around his massive body at Verona. "Wouldn't he just...well, you know...use the killing curse?" He asked innocently.

She shook her head. "Not necessarily. Not if he wanted to inflict pain. And he obviously hates you, Maxim."

"So you're saying he wanted to scare me?" He asked, scoffing. "With pain?"

Verona stayed cool, emotionless. "I don't know if it's just that anymore. Wanting to scare you, I mean. I think he's getting desperate. Desperate to have you out of my life. Obviously the visions aren't enough..." She turned to face him, eyebrows narrowed in thought. "It terrifies me to think what the Dark Lord is capable of when he's desperate."


	25. Chapter 25

Character 25

Capability

Verona woke with a start at the sound of pounding on the door of her flat. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and turned her head towards the clock: 3 a.m. She was irritated, but alert, and made no sound - visits like these were not welcome, least of all in times like these. She swung her feet over the side of the bed and crept quietly towards the door and peered out the keyhole. There was no one there.

Suspicious of the invisible visitors, she asked tentatively, "Who's there?"

There was no answer, just another knock from the air.

She swallowed hard, then grabbed the door knob and swung the door open quickly, throwing her hand out and grabbing something warm and soft, however invisible, in front of her. "What do you want?" she screamed.

The intruders threw off their cloak and she saw that they weren't intruders at all, and that she was strangling her godson.

She dropped her hand immediately. "Harry!" she breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at him. "You should know better than to scare me like that..." her smile faded as she realized the hiatus he, Ron, and Hermione had taken from Hogwarts. "Where the hell have you been?" she yelled angrily, grabbing his arm and yanking him inside, the others following. She slammed the door behind them and locked it, rounding on them.

"You've had me worried sick! Do you have any idea how many people have been looking for you?"

Harry shrugged, smiling half-heartedly. "I have an idea." He sat down at her tiny kitchen table, and Ron and Hermione followed suit.

"You can't expect us to go back to that place when it's been infiltrated," said Ron.

"Or run by Dumbledore's murderer," added Hermione.

Verona sighed and ran a hand through her hair, then brushed a finger over the scar on her cheek. "No," she said frustratedly, "no, I guess you're right." She rolled her eyes. "What exactly have you been doing, anyway?"

A silence fell over the three of them as they looked to one another. "We...uh...well, we don't really want to talk about it..." said Harry.

Verona nodded. "I see," she said, pacing slowly, then stopping. "Well, I guess you won't be leaving here then."

Ron scoffed. "Please, you really think you can keep us here?

"I can do whatever I damn well please as long as it's to protect you three," she said, chuckling at his valiant effort. "And if I don't know what you're doing, I can only assume what you're doing is dangerous. So," she said, plopping down on the bed, "I suggest one of you gets to talking."

They looked at one another again, then Hermione spoke. "We're looking for horcruxes," she said with a sigh. "Specifically, the horcruxes made by Tom Riddle. And we're destroying them, one by one."

A chill went down Verona's spine as she stiffened. "I see," she said without emotion. "Alone?"

They nodded.

"Well that's certainly not the safe and fun-filled vacation I was hoping for," she said. "Personally, I think you'd have been safer at Hogwarts. At least then someone could have protected you." She stood up and went to the kitchen, taking out the bread and butter she saved for occasions like this. She set them on the table, and their eyes widened as they took to them like ravenous wolves.

She smiled a bit at that. "So you just happened to be in the area when you were looking for these horcruxes, is that it?"

"You wouldn't believe what we've had to eat, where we've had to sleep," said Ron, his mouth full. "It's like living in Hell sometimes."

"I can imagine," said Verona. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Really?" asked Ron. "Maxim won't mind? Where is Maxim anyway?"

"He's barely even here nowadays," she said with a sigh. "He likes to prowl around, look for Death Eaters, contraband, that sort of thing. So he won't mind, no."

Harry shook his head. "We'll be leaving tomorrow. We don't have time to stick around, unfortunately."

"Then let me come with you," she said. "I can't let you just walk out of here knowing you'll be in danger. What kind of godparent would I be?"

"This is something we have to do alone, Verona," he said. "I can't live my whole life relying on you."

"Why not?" asked Ron. "I don't mind having a bit of help."

"No, Ron," Harry said. "We have to keep things as normal as possible around here. If she leaves, he'll know something is up. Not to mention he could find out where we..." he stopped suddenly, realizing what he had said, staring at Verona apologetically. "I'm sorry, but we just can't risk it. If you give up our position -"

She held up a hand to silence him. "I understand, Harry." She sighed, staring down at the burn on her arm. "If only, if only." She traced her finger over the skull, the snake protruding from its mouth. She made a tight fist and felt her lips curl into a snarl.

She shook her head suddenly, snapping herself out of her trance. "Alright, if it really has to be like that," she said, opening her closet and taking out three sets of blankets, "you'll have to sleep on the floor. I don't have the time to produce mattresses for one night." She spread them out on the ground, the three makeshift beds looking pathetic and tiny in her flat.

Hours later, when they all slept, there was another knock at the door. This time it was subtle, yet persistent, and did not wake any of the sleeping children. Verona however sat up quickly, a cold sweat suddenly breaking out on her brow. There was a chill making its way down her spine, although she couldn't quite figure out why. The guest knocked again, this time a bit louder. Harry twitched in his sleep and opened his eyes, staring up at the alert Verona, who pressed a finger to her lips. He quietly awoke Ron and Hermione, covering their mouths with his hands.

Another knock. Verona pointed to the closet door, helping the three of them to their feet and ushering them over. She grabbed the blankets and invisibility cloak and handed them to Hermione as Harry pressed a finger to his forehead, to his scar. Verona shot a look of terror at him, realizing suddenly just who was at the door. Quickly and quietly, she shoved them in the closet and threw the invisibility cloak over them, shutting the door tightly.

She took a deep breath and made her way to the door, stopping with her hand on the knob. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice ripe with fear.

"You know who it is," said a cold and high-pitched voice.

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, her breathing increasing. "What do you want?" she asked, not impolitely.

"Open the door or I'll break it down," he said. "I want to make this as easy for you as I possibly can. The longer you wait, the worse it will get. Choose wisely, no one else gets this chance." His voice was calm, collected, charming even.

She took a deep breath and swallowed again. "...alright, Tom." She slowly turned the knob and opened the door.

He was standing there in a starched black suit, a slight smile spread across his face. "Hello, Verona." He breezed into the room, making a turn and staring at all her knick-knacks, her photos, her memories. There was a pause as she stood there in her night dress, an oversized men's shirt, more naked than she had ever been. "Is there something you want?" she asked finally.

He turned toward her. "I know he's here."

She caught her breath, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. "Who?"

"Harry Potter. He's hiding somewhere in this room."

She blinked a few times in a pause that seemed like forever. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He turned away from her. "Please Verona, you're sweating. I could always tell when you were lying, because you sweat. It's the only time I've ever seen you sweat."

"Well Tom, this time you're wrong. He's been and gone already. You missed him by hours. I guess you can kill me now and get the hell out."

He shook his head. "I should have known you'd be difficult." He snapped his fingers and the door was blown open as two Death Eaters crossed the broken shards, dragging a beaten and bloody Maxim behind them. They threw him to the ground and she cried, "Maxim!" as she rushed to his side, cradling him.

Voldemort pointed his wand at him, twisting it in an obscene angle. Maxim let out a scream of pain, wrenching around in her arms. "Stop it!" she cried, "Don't punish him for my mistake!"

Voldemort laughed cruelly. "Alright Verona, I'll leave him alone. I'll leave you two be for the rest of your miserable days if you do one thing for me." He pointed a long and ghastly finger at her shelves, at a picture of her cradling an infant Harry.

She panted as her eyes darted back and forth. "I told you already, he isn't he - "

He pointed his wand at Maxim and drew out another cry of agony. "Tell me where the boy is or I'll kill this miserable wretch! It's your decision, Verona."

Maxim opened his eyes slowly and stared up at her sadly. "Don't..." he whispered weakly. "Don't give in because of me," he grasped her hand tenderly. "I love you, Verona. I love you so much." Realizing that he was giving up, her eyes watered.

"No," she said, then looked up at Voldemort. "No, there has to be something we can work out. I told you I don't know where he is! What more do you want from me?"

"You can't save them both, Verona!" Voldemort screamed. "Make your decision!" He twisted Maxim's insides again.

There was a long pause, a longer pause than has ever been on this earth. Verona leaned down and kissed Maxim, who kissed her more passionately than he ever had before. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you more than anything." She stroked his cheek as a tear slid down her own.

She stared up at Voldemort. "I hate you," she said, and this time, she meant it. "If you kill him, you'll have to kill me too." She took a deep breath and clutched Maxim's hand tightly as Voldemort's eyes softened for a moment, then resumed their cold presence again.

"I'll ask you one more time. Where is Harry Potter?"

She smiled. "I. Don't. Know."

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he screamed, throwing a green flash of light at Maxim's broken body. His hand loosened on hers and his eyes glazed over, his lips uttering a final farewell of love to Verona.

She burst into tears, holding him closer and rocking back and forth. "Please forgive me," she said between sobs. "God, I'm so sorry, Maxim!"

"SHUT UP!" cried Voldemort, finally losing his cool. "VERONA, YOU ARE SO WEAK!"

She stared up at him with puffy red eyes, her face curled in a look of hate. "Why? Because I understand what it is to sacrifice for a loved one? I suppose that was never a concept you could grasp, was it Tom?"

He said nothing.

"That's what I thought."

He raised his wand. "I hope the sacrifice was worth it, Verona. Now it's your turn."

"As promised," she said numbly, holding Maxim to her.

She stared in his eyes as he stood there, watching her, waiting for her to save herself. The tension was monstrous. The Death Eaters behind her shifted nervously, waiting for the green flash and dull thud.

But it never came. His hand shook as he let out a cry of anger, throwing his head back in rage. He panted hard, staring back at her. "My debt is repaid, Verona."

A flash of a nursery room, an angry Verona holding an infant as he lay dying in a corner, a living corpse in his own right. She lifted her wand, but couldn't kill him...

Voldemort screamed again, running around the room, overturning shelves and cupboards, looking for a secret escape. He came to the closet and blew the door open, staring inside, staring at nothing, at the invisible Harry. He paused for a moment and peered closely inside - she was sure he had found him. But he turned away, turned towards her again. She did not look at him, did not cry, just held the lifeless Maxim in her arms without emotion.

"Next time," he said to her, "next time, I'll kill you. You won't get away so easy."

She said nothing, did not look at him.

His eyes moved to his servants, who were standing in awe. "We're leaving," he said. "Wipe those stupid looks off your faces and get the hell out." They did not move.

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY YOU WORTHLESS SWINE?" he boomed. They looked at each other and hurried out without a word. Voldemort stopped and stared at her back for a moment, and she could feel his eyes on her, his eyes looking through her. Finally, he left, slamming the door behind him.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

_ No word from Harry. No word from anyone. No one but Tom._

It had been weeks, months since Maxim's death. Verona had rarely left her flat, only venturing out for Order assignments, and even those were few and far between - everything had been infiltrated, there was nowhere to go from here. People were dying all around her, and soon, she would die too.

_Unless..._

She shook her head at the sudden passing thought that flickered in her mind. She'd come this far without him, and just look at what he was doing. There were hundreds, thousands of bodies left in Tom's wake, including Maxim's. She knocked on her temple to clear the disgusting consideration from her mind. She had resolved long ago that if it ever came to that, she would rather die than go to him, join him. And even so, he had been so persistent. Now that Maxim was out of the way, the visions and dreams were worse than ever. She could feel his presence, even now in broad daylight, breathing down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, goose pimples formed on her bare arms. She peered around the room, waiting to see his tall ghostly frame, but there was nothing.

Verona caught her breath - she was going mad. She could hear his voice in her head, laughing, whispering, making promises she knew he couldn't keep. "Shut up," she said to the emptiness. "Leave me alone!" Her vision grew hazy, the room spun. Ashes rained down as they once had in her most horrific dream. He knew what she had considered, and he was taking advantage of her weakness. It was odd how powerful this was, this overwhelming loss of control, even with an occlumens like Tom. She fell to her knees, clutching her ears, a high pitched scream rattling through them. She tried to stand again and steadied herself on a curio cabinet, knocking and shattering the picture frames upon it on the ground. She fell again and slammed her hands into broken glass over and over again, all while the screams continued.

"Go away," she said again. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

The screams stopped, the room returned to its dank and normal self.

"Verona...?" asked a tentative voice behind her.

She opened her eyes and wheeled around to see Remus Lupin standing in her doorway. She stood up quickly, running a hand through her messy blonde mane and taking a deep breath and clearing her throat. "Remus," she said through pants, "I'm sorry, I...I just had a little accident. I fell." She showed him her palms, which were healing themselves with ashen disappearance.

He stared at her suspiciously for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm past asking what's wrong, Verona," he said.

"Good man," she replied, stepping over the broken glass and sinking into a wooden chair, panting.

He swallowed. "I hate to ruin your rest, but your presence is greatly needed," he took a deep breath, and Verona noticed that his hands were shaking. "The students of Hogwarts are in grave danger."

She straightened up and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"The Death Eaters are planning to storm the school tonight. Voldemort is entering the fray himself."

When the Order arrived, the school was relatively quiet. It appeared neither the students nor the faculty had been notified. Until Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor, appeared, the corridors were silent and free of movement. She had a worried look upon her face, and moved as if her very life depended on it. Behind her were the staff that had remained loyal to Dumbledore, and behind them, three very familiar faces - Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Verona rushed to them and embraced them, a sigh of relief escaping from her lips. They stood for a moment, then she pushed away and faced them. "You have to get out of here. Voldemort is planning -"

"We know what's happening," said Harry, "and we're not going anywhere. We have to protect our friends."

Verona smiled sadly. "That's noble Harry, but - "

Her words were cut off by a booming voice, a high-pitched, cold, voice. It sent chills down her spine and froze her in her spot. It was Voldemort.

"Students of Hogwarts; tonight, I intend to invade and take your precious castle, and intend to show little mercy to those who oppose me. In fact, I promise that whoever takes a stand against my Death Eaters and I will be met with a swift and horrible death. As we speak, my faithful servants are taking their positions, and await my command to unleash unspeakable horrors upon all of you. However, those who pledge their undivided alleigance to me will be rewarded, and will be offered a position in my new world order. I only ask one thing of you: show me Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and let him fight me like a man. Potter, I will be waiting in the Shrieking Shack for one hour. If you have not shown yourself at the end of that hour, I will enter Hogwarts myself, and will kill everyone who gets in my way. This is your chance Harry - show the world what you can do, or be a coward and sacrifice the innocent. It's your choice."

His words hung in the air like a thick fog after a storm, suffocating everyone within earshot.

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes as wide as saucers, then started out of Verona's grasp, but she stopped him short.

"No, Harry, there has to be another way!" She yelled desperately. "Please, don't do this!"

Hermione clutched his shoulder. "Listen to her, Harry. This is suicide, you have to know that!"

He threw them both off in a huff, pacing quickly back and forth through the corridor. "You heard what he said! He'll kill you all if I don't go!" He turned quickly to Verona. "He doesn't say things unless he means them. You of all people should know that."

"Verona, we have to do something," said Minerva slowly. "I have a thousand defenseless students in this school and they need to be evacuated. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure there's another way." She placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder as the rest of the adults nodded in agreement or disagreement.

There was a pause as she searched for answers. She took a deep breath. "Let me talk to him." She peered around from face to face. "If there's anyone that can talk any kind of sense into him, it's me."

Remus scoffed. "Verona, that was a different time! You can't just expect that to just...carry over!"

She held up a hand to silence him. "I have to try," she turned to Harry again and laid a loving hand on his cheek, "and you're right, I can't promise anything. But I would do anything for Harry." She took a deep breath and turned to Minerva. "Start evacuating the students. If nothing else, I can buy you some time."

She ran to the lawn, ignoring the protests behind her. Harry lunged after her, but was held back by Ron and Hermione. "NO!" he screamed after her, the sound of his feet dully dragging across the stone tile.

Over the foggy grounds, Verona could see what seemed like hundreds of Death Eaters creeping towards her. She didn't have much time. She drew her wand and placed it under her chin, took a deep breath, and spoke.

"Tom," she began, realizing her stupidity, clearing her throat, "...Lord Voldemort. It's Verona." The Death Eaters drew their wands, slowly drawing nearer. "Please. I need to speak with you. I'll do it on your terms, I don't care, it doesn't matter." She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. "There is nothing more important to me right now," she took another deep breath, "there has never been anything more important to me. I'm asking you...as a friend." The words sounded distant, swallowed, but they were true. They were her last hope.

The Death Eaters did not stop their slow pace, and she drew nearer, hoping at least to be a distraction for them. A curse flew past her ear, but she did not retaliate. She simply inched forward, edging farther and farther away from the precious lives at Hogwarts. She waited for a reply, for anything, but it did not come.

Fenrir Greyback ran at her, teeth and claws bared. She steadied herself and met him halfway in mid-air, taking a chunk of flesh from his neck. Another curse flew at her, this time hitting her in the chest, but it slowed her down only for a moment; she felt stronger than she ever had before, stronger for Hogwarts, for Dumbledore, for Harry. She threw her head back and let out a cry of battle, flying from person to person and delivering debilitating blows. Half of them closed in on her quickly and clumsily held her down, while the other half hurried towards the school. The sudden realization that she was failing washed over her. "NO!" she boomed, even louder than she had with the aid of her wand. She struggled to break free, sinking her teeth into a free limb that lay before her.

Suddenly, a cold voice boomed behind her. "STOP!" It said, a flash of red light casting a ghastly glow over the lawn. "STOP, ALL OF YOU!" Immediately, each Death Eater stopped, letting Verona fall to the ground. Those who had run towards the castle came back twice as quick to obey their master.

Verona cracked her neck, standing up slowly to face Tom, wiping the blood from her mouth as she did so. She stared at him, defiant, but with a certain air of respect. She licked the blood from her fingers, letting the hand fall to her side.

Tom stared back at her, a proud smirk spread across his long, pale face. "So," he said as the Death Eaters formed a circle around them, "you've come to beg for that worthless little worm's life." There was a collective chuckle from the group around them.

Verona swallowed. "Surely you have more respect for me than that, Tom. I asked to meet you as a friend."

His face fell as he stared into her sharp yellow eyes. There were no games anymore, no more tricks, no more power of persuasion by fear - there was no fear in her eyes. Only determination. He closed the gap between them and opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped, turning to his loyal subjects. "Anyone who leaves this circle without my orders will answer to me," he said, then grabbed her arm.

There was a blur of color as they were transported miles away to a small clearing in a thickly wooded area. The moon shone down upon them, lighting Verona's skin until she sparkled. He turned away from her sharply, pacing around the clearing slowly. "What do you want?" He asked coldly.

She hurried to him, taking his arm gently. "Please, Tom," she began, her words stopping him in his tracks. He turned to her slowly, his face softening, his features slowly becoming human again.

She stared at him in disbelief as he shrugged slowly. "You always kept me human," he said softly.

She broke her eye-contact to keep herself sane, but did not drop his arm. "Please, you have to understand...Harry's all I have left..."

He pulled her arm from her grasp quickly, scoffing. "I knew you'd try to protect him!" He rounded on her. "Didn't you hear the prophecy? It's him or me!" His voice shook the trees around him.

"I know!" She said, then sighed. She was shaking. "But there has to be another way. I love Harry with everything I have," she said, her eyes welling again. "With something I thought I had lost, something I haven't felt since - "

"MAXIM?" He boomed, his eyes flickering with rage.

There was a pause as Verona regained her courage. "I was never in love with Maxim, Tom." The words hit her even harder than she thought. She hadn't admitted that to anyone, not even herself.

Another pause. She saw a realization wash over him, and his proud posture dropped, his eyes softened. He swallowed, but kept his gaze as stern as he could. He closed the gap between them and kissed her, hard.

A feeling flooded both of them for the briefest of moments. It was one of fulfillment, of passion, of pure and unconditional love.

A tear rolled down Verona's cheek as she pulled away. "You have taken everything from me," she laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

He laid a comforting hand on her hair, stroking it lightly. "I can't save your godson, Verona," he said with genuine contrition. "But I can give you time for evacuation. One hour extra. It's up to Harry if he evacuates or not."

She closed her eyes, realizing just what she had been awarded. She could get the whole school to safety in that time. "Thank you," she whispered.

She pulled away to face him, and he traced a cool finger over the scar on her face. Then, something happened that she had never seen, something that no one had ever seen - Tom let a tear fall down his cheek.

"I have always loved you, Verona," he said with a sigh. "I will always love you. Nothing has ever been able to change that."

They stood like that for a moment, taking each other in, until, in the blink of an eye, they were back at the Hogwarts grounds, holding each other like they had, Tom still in his human form.

There were slight gasps from the Death Eaters around them, but they did not budge. Finally, Verona pulled away, sliding her hand down his arm and clutching his fingers for as long as she could. When the grasp was broken, Tom returned to his inhuman and snake-like self.

They stared at each other for a moment, until Verona spread her wings and flew away from him, just like she always had.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Verona reached the castle to find that the students were already evacuating. She skidded to a halt next to Minerva, who was directing traffic and piling them into various vectors of transportation. She collapsed to a crouched position, realizing all at once just how tired she really was.

Minerva kept her focus on her students, her children, but said, "Well, what did the Dark Lord say?" She finally stared at Verona, her accusing eyes boring a hole into her soul.

"We have an extra hour," she said between pants. "In that time, I want every living thing out of this castle. No exceptions."

"That's not going to happen!" said an angry voice behind her. It was Harry, wild eyed, his chest puffed out to an absurd degree. "I have to end this tonight. Whether or not any of you help me is your decision!"

Verona let out a cry of anger. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST DID FOR YOU? ANY IDEA THE KIND OF DANGER I PUT MYSELF IN? SO HELP ME GOD, YOU ARE LEAVING THIS PLACE, AND THERE WON'T BE ANY COMPLAINTS ABOUT IT!" She took a deep, calming breath, realizing that explosive anger would get her nowhere. "Listen to me, Harry. Voldemort has been exceedingly generous. We're not going to get this kind of chance again."

Harry scoffed. "Oh PLEASE! Do you really think he's just going to drop everything for you?" He closed the gap between them, placing his own angry face in front of hers. "For 17 years, he's done nothing but dream about this night, of killing me! I'm not going to live with that anymore!" He turned away, but she caught his arm. He threw it off, turning back around to face her. "You are a disgrace," he said, his voice an enraged whisper. "My parents didn't wait around to make a deal with the devil. They fought for what was right, unlike anything you've ever-"

"AND YOUR PARENTS ARE DEAD, AREN'T THEY?" Verona boomed. There was a pause as each human being stopped dead in their tracks. A small gasp escaped Minerva's lips. Verona's face straightened as she realized the consequence of what she had just said. "I...I didn't mean that..."

"No, don't try to make it better. What you said is fact, they are dead," Harry's words echoed through the corridor like dull thunder from miles away. "And soon I will be too." He turned on his heels and ran through the castle grounds, towards what would certainly be his doom. "No Harry!" she screamed, starting after him.

From out of nowhere, a tired-looking Remus grabbed her arm, trying desperately to hold her back. "No, Verona, let him go. There's nothing we can do now, he's made up his mind." She ripped her arm from his grasp. "He's as stubborn as his father," he continued, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Maybe he knows something we don't. All you can do now is pray."

She rounded on him. "I'm sorry I haven't resigned my only child to the gallows," she said, her eyes blazing, "and I'm sorry that you HAVE!" She ran towards the evacuating students, screaming like a drill sergeant: "Move! Don't just stand there staring, we're getting you the hell out of here!" Not all of them knew who she was, but they knew she was serious. They hurried away, save a small group of Gryffindors that Verona recognized as friends of Harry's, Ron and Hermione among them. They circled her, apprehensive about her, but willing to overlook that for their dear friend.

"Well," said Verona, "what do you think you're doing? I said move!" They blinked at her, until one stuttering and odd-looking boy with large ears and teeth came forward. "No," he said tentatively, "we're staying to help Harry."

She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Minerva. "They are of age, Verona," she said with a slight sigh. "They can make up their own minds."

She sighed, looked away, calmed herself. After a pause, she said, "Alright, fine, but I'm only doing this because apparently Harry would want me to." There was a chuckle from the students, and she smiled a bit. "If you're going to stay, you all need to stay together. Never will any of you go anywhere alone. These are very advanced wizards we're talking about, so if you think there's going to be trouble, I suggest you run." She glanced around from student to student, placing a hand on the wand in her belt. "I know you're young, and this is far beyond your expertise, but use of the Unforgiveable Curses would be sanctioned in this case." They looked at her, wide-eyed, some nodding solemnly. "You all need to understand that mercy in times like these is useless, as you will not be shown any."

They dispersed around the corridor, trying desperately to calm themselves down. Verona wished that she could do the same, turning towards the Hogwarts grounds, where Harry was meeting his destiny. Remus stood behind her, arms crossed, face pale. "I'm afraid, Remus," she said, not breaking her gaze.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Verona, you'll come out clean as a whistle, just like you always do," he said, a slight, sad smile spread across his lips.

"No, not for myself," she said, turning towards him. "I haven't been afraid for myself in quite a while." She turned away again, unable to see anything but the fog over the grounds. "I realize now that Tom Riddle loves me enough to spare Harry, but Lord Voldemort...that's another story."

Remus laughed a little. "Is this really a shock to you?"

She laughed as well, a sad and empty laugh. "No," she said. "No, it isn't."

Forty-five minutes had passed since Harry had stormed off. Verona paced back and forth, biting the nail of her right thumb. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in the faces of the terrified and anxious students. "If he had succeeded, he'd be back by now," she said quietly and to no one in particular. A few looked up at her, the others nodded nervously. She stopped her pacing, staring around the room. "I'm going after him," she said, making her way towards the grounds.

Remus stopped her again, this time calling on a few more members of the Order to help him. "Verona, no," he said in an urgent voice. "You have to let this play itself out. Harry will come through, he always has."

"Remus, you don't understand," she said, no longer struggling. "If the last encounter we had was indeed our very last, I don't think I would ever forgive myself."

He sighed, then opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the same high-pitched and chilling voice that echoed across the grounds.

"People of Hogwarts: you have now had one hour to evacuate. I can no longer hold off my Death Eaters, and as promised, those who are left in opposition will be vanquished. It should also be known that your champion, Harry Potter, is dead. He died running..."

The rest of Tom's speech was like white noise to Verona. A feeling like slow, cold molasses spread over her body, gripping and strangling her soul.

"No," she whispered. "NO!" The scream was absolutely deafening, sending students scattering and to their knees, and shattering glass. She sank to her knees, sobbing as she never thought she could. She heard soft weeping behind her, the sound of embraces and words of comfort. Tom had failed her, for the millionth time, and this time, it had caused the deepest wound of all, ripping into her like a silver, broad-edged sword.

She cried on the stone floor, on the floor that had already soaked up so many of her tears, for what seemed like hours. She panted, unable to catch her breath, and pressed her forehead into that stone. No one dared come near her - this was pure, unadulterated grief, something some of them had never seen before.

She finally collected herself and sat up, her face raw with tears, her eyes swollen. Minerva knelt by her side and said, "I'm so sorry, Verona."

Verona did not look at her, just stared across the way. She said nothing, was almost completely silent. She felt nothing, nothing but hate. There was a hollow feeling in her stomach as she slowly stood up. Every second of her life had lead up to this moment. She was prepared to inflict unspeakable pain on everyone who had ever done her wrong, and half of them stood on the field in front of her. She was prepared to avenge her godson, avenge his parents, her friends, everyone.

Most of all, she was prepared to die trying.

She spun around to face the students cowering and consoling themselves, and the members of the Order who were doing the same. She swallowed hard, the tears on her face dry, replaced by a look of hollow vengeance.

"How many of you have lost a loved one to these pricks?" She asked quite calmly. Most of the group raised their hands, tears welling in their eyes.

"I thought so," she said, slowly pacing back and forth. "How many of you want to get back at them?" Every person raised their hand.

"Good. Because now's your chance," she stared over the lawn at the throngs of Death Eaters making their way across. "They don't know what you can do, what you are capable of when anger takes a hold of you," she tensed her muscles, "what you can do when you have lost everything, so no longer have anything to lose." She cracked her neck. "Your mothers, your fathers, your sons and daughters. Your friends," she scanned the room, "they've all been waiting for this night. Let's show these people what we can do. Let's show them the extent of OUR mercy. Get rid of them, once and for all!"

There were cries of battle from all around the room as they drew their wands. The Death Eaters were close now, breaking into a run in the last stretch. Verona let out a low growl, turning her face towards her dear friend, Remus. "It's been a pleasure, Remus," she said, nodding respectfully. "Truly, it has." He nodded back, then changed his focus to the coming horde.

A curse flew into the group, hitting an Order member in the chest. There was no long holding anyone back. Hell broke loose.

Fenrir Greyback flew at Verona, tackling her to the ground. She quickly wrestled him around, biting and clawing wounds that would have killed any other being. He was surprised at how strong she had become, and so was she. They fought for a moment more, before she saw three Death Eaters tearing after Ron and Hermione down the corridor. Without a moment to spare, she landed a punch to his jaw, throwing him off and against a wall. She jumped up and ran after the three, who were throwing curses at each other all the way. Greyback quickly recovered and in turn went after her, throwing curses as well.

She chased them down stairs and hidden passages, throwing Greyback from her a few times more, before they finally reached a prefect bathroom. The Death Eaters hadn't noticed Verona and cornered the defenseless students, raising their wands.

One began, "_Avada-"_", but Verona was on him in a heartbeat. She grabbed his shoulders and threw him into Greyback and in turn, into a sink arrangement, knocking both of them unconscious. Verona snapped the second Death Eater's neck in a swift movement, and he fell to the floor with a dull thud. The third, realizing what was coming to him, started off, but Verona caught his arm and turned him swiftly around, lowering her mouth to his jugular. She could feel the blood pulsing through his veins, and slowly sank her teeth into him...

"Not so fast, Verona," said a familiar voice behind her.

She dropped the fool, who crawled miserably to safety, an even bite-mark on his neck. She whirled around savagely, her fangs bared, mouth covered in blood, yellow eyes shining. She stopped short when she saw Fenrir Greyback, holding a horrified Ron and Hermione at wand point. Her eyes returned to their normal color, and she calmed herself.

"Please, Fenrir," she said as respectfully and calmly as she could, "let them go. Your quarrel is with me." She stepped forward a bit, and he stepped back, a smirk spread across his face.

Her eyes narrowed. She stepped forward again, her arm raised to strike him. "Now you listen to me, you worthless waste of - "

Her words were stopped short by a body that had stepped in front of her, and a sharp stinging pain in her gut. She looked down for a moment to focus clearly on her attacker - Bellatrix Lestrange had buried a silver dagger in her abdomen to the hilt. She pulled it out with a jerk and pushed Verona away, dropping the dagger to the floor.

Bellatrix laughed an ugly laugh as Ron and Hermione gasped and screamed in protest. "You really thought you could save all these worthless little mud-bloods? Pathetic." Verona touched a finger to her wound and peered down at the blood that stained it. Realization spread over her as she stumbled back a few steps. Bellatrix laughed again. "Such a shame about your godson as well. And even after you negotiated with the Dark Lord so well. Tsk, tsk," she shook her head. "Have a nice time in Hell," she said, and pushed Verona into the prefect bath tub.

Verona sank what seemed like miles, letting the water slowly suffocate her, her eyes closing. She heard voices in the bathroom, Bellatrix and Greyback laughing, mocking Ron and Hermione. There was a slight pause in their banter and a disarming spell that rendered Greyback unconscious from someone, an outsider, someone that hadn't been there before...

"_How adorable!_" Verona heard a muffled cry from Bellatrix. "_Little Potter, back from the dead AGAIN! Well, that will soon be remedied!_"

It couldn't be...there was no possible way he could be alive...

"_Shut up, Bellatrix! By the time my godmother is through with you, you'll wish you'd never even been born!_"

Another high-pitched cackle from Bellatrix. "_Verona's dead, my dear, or haven't you heard?_" A pause.

"_That's right Potter! I've killed both your godparents! And now I'm going to kill you too!_"

Verona's eyelids jerked open. _No,_ she thought, _not again._ Her body suddenly found new life. She leapt from the bath tub, sending water flying all about the room. She landed by the dagger and clutched it, quickly closing the gap between her and the still cackling Bellatrix.

In one swift motion, she placed a hand around Bellatrix's waist and buried the dagger in her chest, delivering a fatal blow. She leaned in to her body and whispered in her ear.

"I wish nothing more for you than every horror Hell has to offer," she said, clicking her fangs, "and I hope the Devil himself reserves a special seat for you, Bella."

Bellatrix twitched a bit, and her eyes glazed over. "I'll see you there," she said softly.

Verona ripped the dagger from her, and let her fall to the ground. She drew her wand and pointed it at Greyback, who was slowly coming to. "_Avada Kedavara!_" She yelled.

There was a slight pause as she shifted her gaze back to the three students, who were wide-eyed and visibly shaken. "Harry," she said softly, "words cannot describe how elated I feel..." She smiled as warmly as she could, delirious from her wound. She dropped her wand and sank to her knees, and Harry came to her side and held her gently. "We've got to stop your bleeding," he said, pressing a hand to her wound.

She pushed it away, instead holding it in hers. "No," she said, "I'm finished, and glad of it." Her smile faded. "Harry, I'm so sorry for what I said..."

He hushed her and draped her arm over his shoulder. "Don't worry about that now, we have to get you to Madam Pomfrey." He tried to stand her up, but found that dead weight was much heavier than he had anticipated. "Help me!" He yelled to Ron, and she realized just how afraid he was for her life. They stood her up, and she let out a cry of pain, but stood as proudly as she could. Together, they walked her through the corridors, down the stairs, fighting off Death Eaters and renegade curses throughout.

Harry was protecting _her_ now.

When they finally reached the Great Hall, they were surprised to see that it was shut. They peered around and realized that most of the action had calmed down, but the corridor was lined with bodies. Verona's head rolled to one side, and she heard Harry say, "We need to get her help, and fast," as Hermione slowly pushed open the large wooden doors.

There was a haze of light as hundreds of faces swam into view. Verona's focus went in and out, and finally told her that what she saw was true: Tom was holding the remaining students and Order members hostage, waiting for them to pledge their alleigance. What he hadn't counted on was Harry being alive, or Verona being half-dead.

His eyes narrowed in disbelief at Harry, then in pure hatred. He peered over at Verona, who was barely able to move, and his eyes widened in fear for her life.

In her delirium, she saw Tom as he once was, in his uniform at school, smiling warmly as he always had. "Tom..." she said weakly, "it's so good to see you like this..."

He said nothing, but took a few hurried steps toward her, but Harry turned her away from him. "Don't you see what you've done to her?" He yelled, gaining the strength to hold her in a cradle carry. "The only person that has ever truly loved you, and she's dying because of the horrible things you've done!"

"Don't say that, Harry, it's rude," said the delirious Verona.

"...who did this?" Tom asked quietly and sternly.

"Who else?" asked Harry hatefully. "Your faithful servant, the pure-blood Bellatrix Lestrange."

Tom swallowed, stiffening at the mention of her name. "I see. A worthy woman."

"Well she's dead now!" yelled Hermione. "Verona made sure of that after she threatened Harry, because she loved him. He's the only person she's ever loved as much as you!"

There was a gasp from the crowd.

Harry drifted halfway towards Tom, and set her gently on the ground. "Show her the love she deserves," he said, hate in his eyes, "in front of all these people. Show them that you DO have a heart. That the Dark Lord, master of death and all things evil, had a heart once."

Tom swallowed again and shot Harry a look of hate, then peered down at Verona, whose eyes were slowly sinking into sleep. "Tom...?" she asked quietly, her arm reaching up to him. He swallowed again, this time to keep back tears. He knelt by her side and cradled her in his arms, brushing the sweat from her forehead. "Yes, my love. I'm here. It's only me this time, not Voldemort. Only me."

Minerva wiped a tear from her eye, as did Hermione.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," said Verona. "I've never wanted anything so much in my life. And Harry can visit, you'll be so proud of him," a tear fell from her eye as the memories fired in her mind, good and bad. She let out a slight cry of pain, and he held her closer, running a cool hand over her forehead. "And we'll be happy, because I love you, and you love me. And nothing is more important than that."

A tear streaked Tom's face. "You're right, Verona," he said, "nothing is more important than that."

She smiled a bit, then closed her eyes, and died.

The Dark Lord howled out a cry of anguish as the people of Hogwarts had never heard before, as the world had never heard before. It was the cry of a man who had lost his true love, one of incredible pain. He held her closer, her blood staining his robes, his tears falling on her unblinking face.

"I really did love her," he said in a hushed voice, to no one but himself. "I always have." He stood up and carried her body to a large wooden table, the students and teachers spreading out around him, clearing out of his way out of fear. He laid her down, and kissed her forehead.

A flash of bright white light.

Verona's eyes opened slowly, and she squinted as she peered around her surroundings. It was warm, the sunlight shone down on her, but it did not burn as it had before. Gulls sang out in the distance, the sound of light waves slapping the shore. She slowly stood up, turning in all directions. She was totally alone.

She was also dead.

There was a feeling of shock and of panic - she hadn't been around to protect Harry...perhaps she would meet him on this beach...

"Somebody help!" she cried out, but her voice didn't carry over the sandy beach. She panted, waiting for someone to explain themselves - she didn't really have time to be dead right now.

A cool hand gently grasped hers, and she spun around - it was Tom, looking more handsome than ever.

A feeling of calm spread over her, as it always had. "Tom," she said, peering into his eyes, "is it really you...?" She brushed a hand over his cheek, and he gently held it.

"What's left of me," he said.

"If you're here, then you must be...dead."

"Yes. Harry finished me not long after you passed."

She smiled a bit despite him. "I'm sorry, Tom."

He smiled back. "No, it's alright. I've wanted to be rid of Lord Voldemort for quite some time now," he held her face in his hands, "and there was only one way to make that happen." He peered around the beach. "To think I was so worried about death. It's not so bad."

"No," said Verona, "it really isn't."

"I didn't think I would make it, Verona, not here at least. Somewhere else perhaps. But I guess I have you to thank for that," he kissed her forehead. "Without you, Tom Riddle would have died. But you kept him alive." They kissed, entwined fingers, and took a walk down the beach.

Never had an eternity been spent so well.

THE END

_"""""_


End file.
